


cause you show me something i can't live without

by notquitegucci (AllieKitaguchi)



Series: love me like you do [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I'm not even gonna lie i almost forgot to tag theon, I'm so sorry, LMAO, Love, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, Minor Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Minor Jon Snow/Ygritte, Minor Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Multi, THIS IS A CONTINUATION/EXPANSION PIECE, arya is VERY in love with gendry, arya is bad at Feelings, bran and arya are BROS, but here we are fam, but they deserve each other, catelyn is a Cool Mom, dadvos, everyone adores arya, everyone plays soccer/football, gendry is VERY in love with arya, gendry is a little shit, gendry is the best dogsitter in westeros, happy 50k, i was literally about to post this and then added another 4000 words, i will die with this ship, i'm the worst, ned stark is just trying to live his life, robb is a disaster, sansa tries bless her heart, sorry i'm trash, the author is sorry, the title is from a jonas brothers song because the author is a crackhead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 21:03:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 50,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllieKitaguchi/pseuds/notquitegucci
Summary: Slowly, and without realizing it, Arya had invaded Gendry’s life and turned his whole world upside down and he had done the same to her. They were each other’s person and they were the most important people in their lives. She loved him, completely and unconditionally, and he loved her the same.Continuation/expansion of "i used to think one day we'd tell the story of us" which features the 9 times a Stark meets Gendry + the 1 time Gendry meets the Starks!Arya's POV!





	cause you show me something i can't live without

AGE SEVEN:

Arya Stark was seven years old the first time she truly tasted freedom.

She had been home for the evening, school having ended nearly an hour prior, and boredom was creeping up on her as she sat in her living room, staring blankly at the wall. She could hear her siblings rustling around in the house, the rest of the Stark children spread out amongst the massive estate as they settled in for the afternoon.

Robb, Theon, and Jon were upstairs, getting dressed for their footie game, and her mother was changing Rickon’s diaper in the bathroom. Sansa was upstairs, loudly speaking to her new best friend, Margaery, and Bran was coloring in the kitchen, the methodical scratching of the crayons and occasional tearing of the paper giving Arya a headache.

The house, though spacious and inviting, was beginning to feel suffocating the longer she sat alone in the living room. She and Sansa hadn’t played together in months, Sansa preferring to spend time with her new friends, and the older boys were getting to the age where it wasn’t cool to hang out with girls, even if they were related.

Arya stood up abruptly and strode into the kitchen, bypassing her younger brother, who didn’t even look up as she walked into the backyard. The afternoon sun beat down on her as she paused on the patio, taking a deep breath in the calm of the moment. She closed her eyes, enjoying the heat now gliding along her arms.

Without really knowing where she was going, Arya started walking, stepping down off of the patio and heading into the woods on the edge of their property. She walked for a few minutes, head cocked to the side as she listened to the natural sounds surrounding her, enjoying the call of the birds and the rustle of the leaves in the wind.

She could feel her head clearing with every step she took. The smell of dirt and flowers wafted up around her, chasing away the beginnings of the headache that had been slowly forming at the back of her head. Every stride she took made her feel better than the last, a serene peace filling her as she wandered deeper into the woods.

She meandered around until she found a flowing stream, pausing on the riverbank for a moment before deciding to follow it. She pulled her sneakers off of her feet and walked in the shallow water, delighting in the silky-smooth sand under her toes and the warm water splashing along her ankles as she moved.

Out in the brook, her grey eyes followed the path of a small fish swimming upstream, watching as it darted around rocks and dipped in and out of the water. A bird cawed over her head, and her attention was diverted to a flock of crows sent scattering into the sky by a dark squirrel climbing up into the branches of a large tree.

She walked mindlessly for several long minutes, stopping every once in a while to pick up glittering rocks she found buried in the mud. As she roamed, the ambient noise around her shifted from the wildlife in Winterfell’s woods to the sounds of people chattering, voices raising and lifting as she neared them.

The waterway seemed to widen as she walked further, and she’d probably made it a mile or two away from her house before she realized it had led her straight to a park. Other children her age came into view as she rounded the corner, splashing along the banks of the river in brightly colored swim gear.

She passed them without a word, most of them too enamored with the toys they’d brought with them to pay her any mind, though a few older children did stare at her in confusion as she seemed to materialize from the forest. She ignored their gawking and continued, finally stepping away from the river.

The park opened up before her as the trees thinned out, brimming with people hanging out in the afternoon sun. Children of all ages and sizes ran around the large fields and played on the swing-sets, their laughter and conversations drifting over to her as she wandered through the park with a curious gaze.

No one stopped her as she explored, venturing around the basketball courts and tennis courts to the footie fields, where a few different pick-up games were taking place. She had half a mind to step in and join the one closest to her, but she decided to hang back, instead watching as the older men ran around the field, shoving and jeering at each other.

Arya eventually settled in the grass on the sidelines, far enough away to be relatively safe from stray balls, but close enough to hear the laughter and jibes the men were throwing around. She stretched her legs out and basked in the sunlight until the chill of the evening crept across the park and people slowly filtered out.

Hours must’ve passed because as the men finished their game, Arya realized the sun was setting. She clambered to her feet, putting her shoes back on and heading back for the woods. Arya was already midway into the forest, her mind peacefully blank, before she realized that she had no idea where the river was.

A jolt of panic hit her momentarily before she swallowed it back and marched in the direction she had been heading. She wandered around in the woods for another hour, forcing herself to remain calm and pay attention to where she was going, the moon creeping into the sky by the time she finally reached her house.

When the trees thinned and her yard came into view, she breathed out a sigh of relief, the ball of tension resting in her breastbone easing. As she walked up the backyard, she realized that somewhere in the house, her family was yelling. The words were indistinguishable at first, but as she neared the house, she was able to make out a few things.

“—call the police!” She heard her mother’s booming voice.

“You were supposed to be watching her!” Her father shouted.

“I was handling Rickon! I thought the boys were watching her!” Her mother yelled back.

Arya stepped onto the patio, frowning. She couldn’t see her family through the windows, but she could certainly hear them. She pulled the sliding glass door open and stepped into the kitchen, peering around as she heard the shouting match continue from the living room. She paused in the doorway to the room, watching.

Robb was paler than she’d ever seen him, Theon and Jon standing behind him, silently providing support. Jon’s skin had a weird greenish tint to it and even Theon looked worried. Sansa was on the couch, holding Rickon to her chest, chewing on her thumb and not looking at anyone, her blue eyes moving over the carpet, unseeing, as she lightly rocked back and forth.

Arya’s parents were standing toe to toe, both of them red in the face. Her mother looked a second away from throttling her father, who looked angrier than she’d ever seen him before. Arya cocked her head in confusion, her eyes finding her younger brother, Bran, who was staring at her with wide, watery eyes.

“What’s going on?” Arya asked, frowning.

Every eye in the room turned her way in an instant.

“Arya!” To her surprise, her mother let out a wail and dropped to the ground in front of her, tugging Arya into her arms. The air in Arya’s body left her in a whoosh as she collided with her mother’s chest, blinking in shock. Arya’s mother wept into her shoulder and Arya’s whole body went cold.

“What’s wrong?” Arya asked, panicking. _Who died? Who was hurt? Had something happened to someone?_

Her father was gaping at her as he slowly kneeled next to her mother, his fingers lightly brushing along his youngest daughter’s cheeks. “Arya,” He said carefully, his voice slow and measured. “Where on earth have you been?”

“We were worried sick.” Arya’s eyes darted to Jon, who stepped forward when she turned his way. Relief was slowly filling his face as he stared at Arya. Behind him, Theon clapped Robb on the shoulder, quietly murmuring to him. Even Sansa breathed out in relief from the couch, rubbing at her temples.

“I went for a walk.” Arya said, stepping back as her mother finally released her, sniffling. Confusion was coursing through her as she stared at her family, who were all looking at her with relief written clear across their faces.

“No one could find you.” Her mother said, her pretty face twisted into a frown. “No one knew where you were, Arya.”

“I’m sorry.” Arya said honestly. “I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I was just bored.”

Robb barked out a laugh that sounded like it pained him. He blinked, and Arya was startled to see her eldest brother’s eyes gleaming with unshed tears. He came over to her and softly ruffled her hair as he laughed, “Of course you were.”

“Please don’t do that again.” Her father said, voice serious.

Arya frowned. “I just went to the park. I was fine.”

Her father blinked at her, perplexed. “That… that’s all the way on the other side of town. How the hell did you get to the park?”

Arya’s frown deepened, and she tilted her head in confusion. “No, it’s not. It’s only a mile or two away from here.”

“And how would you know that?”

“I walked there.”

“How?”

“Through the woods in the backyard.” Arya stated, still frowning.

Her mother paled and reached for her, clutching at Arya’s petite shoulders, her blue eyes wide with fear. “You walked through the woods?”

“Yeah,” Arya nodded, unbothered. “There’s a little stream that leads into the park and I just followed it. It didn’t take me very long to get there. It only took me so long to get home ‘cause I forgot to follow the river home.”

“Arya, I don’t want you going into the woods again.” Her mother said sternly.

Arya pouted, sagging. “But—”

“Arya, I said no.”

“Why?” Arya had to repress the urge to start whining.

“Because it’s dangerous!” Her mother snapped. “Ned, would you—?”

“Your mother is right, Arya.” Her father cut in, his grey eyes finding hers. “What you did tonight was incredibly dangerous and scared the life out of us. What if you had gotten lost? We had no idea where you were, and no one would’ve been able to come find you.”

“I was fine!”

“Arya,” He said, and she closed her mouth with a snap at the fierce tone of his voice. “You will _not_ do that again.”

AGE EIGHT:

Arya had mastered sneaking out of her house undetected a month after her parents forbade her from wandering around in the woods. Since her initial exploration, her mother and father had watched her like a hawk, hardly even letting her in the backyard without their supervision or one of her other siblings accompanying her.

Arya had spent the first two weeks after the incident locked up in her room, ignoring the rest of her family’s paranoid eyes. They cared for her and worried about her, she knew that much, but their constant presence was starting to take a toll on her. During the third week of house arrest, she finally broke down and climbed out her window, escaping into the yard.

Her house was massive and had unnecessary fixtures all over the exterior. It was pretty easy to scale her way down the stone building and into the yard, grinning when her feet finally touched the grass. The sun was still high in the sky, the breeze warm and cozy as it lifted her hair from her shoulders, and she was free again.

Arya took off into the woods, determined to find her way back to the park. She found the stream again and followed it with confidence, smirking when she heard the tell-tale sounds of children splashing in the water. She raced into the park, heading straight for the footie fields, where she plopped down in the grass to watch the matches.

She made sure to keep an eye on the sun, stopping people walking by her to ask for the time every now and then. As it started nearing the time her mother usually prepared dinner, Arya climbed back to her feet and headed back into the woods, carefully paying attention to the trees she was passing.

She found her way back to her home much quicker than she expected, only getting turned around once or twice. She estimated it had taken her twenty minutes to get home this time, and she grinned the whole way up the backyard. She faltered as she reached the patio, unsure of where to go from there.

She risked a glance in the sliding door to see the kitchen thankfully empty and crept inside silently, shutting the door slowly without a sound. However, when she turned back around, Bran was standing in the entryway for the kitchen, head cocked to the side in bewilderment. “Arya?”

She blinked at her younger brother, freezing. “Hello.”

His dark eyes darted behind her, peeking at the door she’d just come through, before shifting back to hers. “Were you outside?”

“Maybe.”

“Did you go to the park again?” He frowned.

Arya shushed him, stepping forward and pulling him further into the kitchen. He stared up at her in confusion as she glanced around. “Where is mum?”

“She’s upstairs with Rickon.”

“Okay,” She breathed out deeply before turning back to him. “Yes, I was at the park again. But I’m perfectly fine, see?”

“But mum and dad…”

“I know,” She cut him off. “But Bran, it’s the only thing that makes me happy.”

Bran watched her for a few moments and she was struck by how _old_ his eyes seemed to be. Finally, after a beat, he nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Okay?” Arya repeated, confused.

He nodded again, giving her a small smile. “I won’t tell mum and dad.”

“Oh Bran, _thank you_.” Arya tugged him into a hug, laying her cheek on top of his head. Bran’s thin arms circled her waist, squeezing her lightly.

Bran leaned back after a pause and stared up at her. “You have to promise to come back, though.”

“I promise.” She said. At his hesitant look, she kissed his forehead. “I _promise_ Bran, I will _always_ come back.”

“Okay,” He mumbled into her collarbone, tucking his face back into her chest. “I love you, Arya. I just want you to be happy. You’ve looked so sad lately. I don’t like it.”

“I love you too, little brother.” Arya said softly, her words getting lost in his dark hair as a wave of gratitude crashed into her. “I’ll tell you what—if I don’t come home, or if you get really worried, you can tell mum and dad, okay?”

“You won’t be mad?” He asked skeptically.

“No,” She shook her head. “I swear I won’t.”

“Okay,” Bran nodded solemnly, looking much older than six. “Deal.”

From then on, she and Bran had an understanding. Arya would leave the house when Bran was sure the coast was clear, and she’d return before the sun had set, slipping in through the backdoor when the kitchen was empty. Bran had told Arya that her mother was getting suspicious, so Arya started leaving music playing while she was gone.

Their little deal went on for almost nine months, with Bran quietly playing along with Arya’s adventures in the Winterfell woods. True to his words, Bran never told any of their siblings about her excursions and never questioned her choices, only smiling happily at her when she eventually returned for dinner.

As winter crept across the town, Arya’s expeditions came to a halt, as it was little too cold for even her to wander around in the woods. As soon as the weather started to clear up and the ice began thawing, she was back to her sneaking around, though Bran’s gaze was always a little nervous when she left the house.

With spring approaching, Arya finally decided to sit her parents down and talk to them. She waited until dinner was over and her other siblings were filtering out of the room before she pointedly cleared her throat. “Mum, dad, can I talk to you about something?”

Her mother and father had shared a concerned look, glancing at each other before slowly sitting back down at the table. Her mother’s brows were drawn into a deep frown. “What’s wrong, Arya?”

“Nothing,” She quickly told them. “But I think you guys need to relax a bit.”

Her father and mother stared at her. Her father blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“I can take care of myself.” Arya told them, raising an eyebrow. “ _You_ taught me how to take care of myself.”

“Arya…”

“I want to be able to come and go as I please.” She stated, crossing her arms. “It’s not fair that the others all get to go out and play and I’m told to stay inside.”

“Your brothers are older—” Her mother started to argue.

“They’re eleven.” Arya reminded her, quirking a brow. “I’m eight. We’re only three years apart. Sansa’s only nine and Bran’s seven, but they get to do whatever they want.”

“You’re not forbidden from leaving the house, Arya,” Her father said, scowling. “You know if you want to go outside, you can.”

“Really?” She leaned forward, incredulous. “So, if I wanted to play outside, _by myself_ , you’d be okay with that?”

“Well—”

“Exactly,” Arya cut him off. “But if Bran or Sansa wanted to, you’d let them. Ever since that first time I went to the park, you’ve been scared to let me out again.”

“What do you mean _first_ time?” Her father asked, eyes darkening.

“I go to the park almost every day. I haven’t lately because the weather’s been bad, but Spring is coming, and I intend to go back.” Arya lifted her head defiantly.

“I—how?” Her mother gaped. 

“I climbed out my window the first time—”

“Arya Stark!”

“—but now I just wait until no one’s in the kitchen and I head out the back door.” She finished, shrugging. She peered at her parents shocked faces. “I come back every night before dinner is ready and you would never have known if I hadn’t told you. No one even notices that I’m gone.”

“We explicitly told you not to do that!” Her mother growled.

“And I told you I was fine.” Arya shot back, huffing. “I know the woods like the back of my hand now. If I run, I can make it to the park in under ten minutes. I haven’t gotten lost since that first day and that was only because it was dark.”

“Arya, it’s dangerous!” Her father said, eyes begging her to understand.

“I’m perfectly safe! No one comes as far as the house because it’s marked as private property.” She told him. “I always walk along the river because you always told me that the river would lead me to people. I’m not an idiot dad, I’m always careful.”

“Leaving the house without telling anyone isn’t smart, Arya.”

“I always told Bran when I was leaving.” Arya admitted. At her parents shocked gazes, she held her hands out and quickly said, “Don’t be mad at him, please. I made him promise not to tell you.”

Her parents stared at each other, having a silent conversation, before her mum turned on her chair and called, “Bran, can you come here please?”

“Mum, I made him promise!” Arya hissed, eyes catching her brother’s worried gaze as he entered the kitchen hesitantly.

Her mother pulled Bran closer, brushing dark hair out of his eyes as he shifted awkwardly on his feet. Her voice was calm as she said, “Bran, your sister says you knew she’s been leaving the house. Is that true?”

Bran glanced at Arya and she hoped he could see how sorry she was. His dark eyes darted across her face for a moment before he turned back to their mother and nodded once. “Yes, it’s true.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, son?” Her father asked him, voice low, but kind.

“She was happy again.” Bran stated. Their parents blinked in surprise, lips parting. “Arya always looked so sad, but she was finally starting to look happy again. She promised to always come home, and she did, so I kept her secret.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Her mother sighed and gently kissed Bran’s forehead. “Thank you, dear. You can go now.”

“Please don’t be mad at Arya.” Bran said, not moving. “I don’t want her to be sad again.”

Arya’s heart twisted, and her parents shared another pained look. Her father nodded at Bran once and he left the room, sending a lingering gaze in Arya’s direction before he disappeared into the living room. Her father rubbed at his eyes, looking tired. He turned to her and asked, “Is that true?”

Arya nodded. “I have nothing to do here. Sansa’s got all her friends, and Jon, Robb, and Theon all have their footie friends and each other. Bran’s got Jojen and Meera, and Rickon’s a baby, so he doesn’t count. I don’t really have any friends at school because they’re all idiots.”

“Arya, that’s not very nice.”

“Sorry,” She said, shrugging unapologetically. “But it’s true. I just don’t like the kids in my classes, so I don’t talk to any of them. But I get so bored just sitting here around the house while everyone else is out with their friends.”

“What about at your practices?” Her father asked, frowning. “I thought you had friends there.”

“Jaqen and Syrio are my coaches. I don’t think they can really count as my friends. You pay them to like me.” Arya stated primly, lifting a shoulder. Her fencing coaches were odd and eccentric in their own ways, with Jaqen’s weird way of speaking and Syrio’s unusual teaching style, but she adored them anyway.

“Arya…” Ned sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What about your sister? She’s only a year older than you.”

“Her friends don’t like me, and I don’t like them.” Arya scowled. “They call me Arya Horseface and Sansa lets them.”

Her mother balked. “What?”

“I don’t really care.” Arya admitted. In truth, Sansa’s friends’ cruel words hadn’t hurt her feelings in years. “They’re all just stupid girls who drool over boys anyway.”

“Don’t call your sister stupid.”

“Sorry.”

“Arya, darling, we’re just trying to understand,” Her father said, leaning closer. He placed a hand on her shoulder and stared at her imploringly. “Truly, we are.”

Arya glanced down at the table, struggling to find the words. “I just… I like to people watch. It’s fun. I love watching people play footie or tennis, and mothers playing with their children on the swings. It takes my mind off of stuff. It’s the only thing I’ve found, besides fencing and footie, that makes me happy.”

Her mother caught her father’s eye. “Ned…”

“Cat, what do you want me to say?” He sighed. They both turned to each other, momentarily avoiding Arya’s gaze. “If we tell her not to do it again, you know she’ll find a way.”

Her mother closed her eyes and sighed again, shoulders sagging. Arya felt bad for causing the weariness in her parents’ eyes but watched excitedly as her mother straightened and turned to her, her pretty face serious. “Alright young lady, if we let you do this, there needs to be ground rules.”

Arya beamed, leaping out of her seat to hug her mother. “Thank you!”

Her mother looked shocked—it wasn’t a secret that Arya was the least affectionate Stark and hardly ever initiated physical contact with any of them—and flushed under Arya’s attention. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “You need to be home before the sun sets each night, understood?”

“Got it.” Arya nodded, giddy.

“You must have your homework done before you go, too.”

“Okay.”

“And I want you to tell someone before you leave.”

“Deal.” Arya grinned.

Her mother’s blue eyes searched her face before she tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind Arya’s ear. “We love you, Arya. We just want you to be safe.”

“I always am. I promise.”

“Alright.” Her mother nodded and gently sat back in her chair.

“We’re trusting you to come home, Arya.” Her father said, his gaze intense as he searched his youngest daughter’s face. Whatever he was looking for, he must’ve found it, because he let out a loud, weary sigh. His eyes were grimly set on hers, and she got the strange feeling that this was what it would feel like to send a loved one off to war.

Arya looked between her parents faces, the gravity of the situation not lost on her. She understood exactly how hard it was for them to let her do this and she knew their hesitation only came out of a place of love. She took each of their hands and squeezed them lightly, promising, “I’ll always come home.”

AGE NINE:

She knew her family still worried about her, but she continued her voyages in and out of the Winterfell park anyway. For her ninth birthday, her parents gifted her with a simple phone, and though she knew it was mostly to ease their stress of her being alone and out of the house, she was grateful.

Despite her new phone, she still saw the worried glances that her family shared whenever she strolled out of the house and disappeared into the yard. She ignored them as best as she could, but their nervous gazes often lingered in her mind after she’d set off into the woods, the house long gone behind her.

Everything came to a bitter heed in the dead of summer, when classes were over, and the sun melted everything that stepped outside. Arya’s trips were becoming longer and longer, with her leaving earlier in the day and coming home later at night. She was always home for dinner, but the sun would be nearly set when she came in the back door.

She woke early that fateful morning, the rest of her siblings most likely not even awake yet. She could hear her father moving around in the kitchen downstairs as he got ready for work, but other than that, the house was silent. She rose from her bed and got ready, tying her hair into a secure ponytail at the back of her head and grabbing her phone.

She put on comfortable athletic clothes—a well-loved tank top, a pair of shorts, and her sneakers. As she flicked the light off in her room and headed downstairs, she was surprised to find her mother also seated at the table next to her father. Her mother begged her to eat breakfast before she went out, so she indulged her, scarfing down the waffles they’d made.

Surprisingly, Robb and Jon appeared in the kitchen a few moments later, dragging a half-asleep Theon behind them. They grunted as they moved into the kitchen, eating in a daze as Arya snickered at them. By the time she was done eating, the boys had vanished back up to their rooms, no doubt to fall back asleep.

Her mother wandered back upstairs quietly as Arya was heading for the sink, but she appeared back downstairs only a few moments later in her outfit for the day—comfortable shorts, a Winterfell t-shirt, and boots. Upstairs, she could hear the older boys moving around as she turned on the sink and started washing her plate off.

Her father kissed her head on his way out of the house, calling his goodbye before the door shut. Her mother eyed her as she danced around the kitchen, cleaning her dishes and putting them away as she filled up a bottle of water to take with her. She waved goodbye to her mother and set off into the yard.

Arya was halfway to the park when she realized someone was following her.

She almost hadn’t noticed it at first, but when she finally did, jitters crept up her spine. The snapping of a twig had given her a slight pause and she’d almost turned around before she thought better of it. She kept her pace even, not speeding up or slowing down as she kept moving. She twirled her water bottle between her fingers, nervous.

She forced herself to remain unaffected, listening closely. Whoever was behind her—multiple people by the sounds of it—were trying to be stealthy as they walked just out of her line of sight. Arya pretended that she hadn’t noticed them, ducking around a large tree and hefting herself up into the branches silently.

She counted three distinct voices, though they were only murmurs in the quiet morning. She forced herself to remain still in the tree, craning her head to look down below as the voices got closer. She held her breath, hovering a few feet above the ground as the boys behind her came into view, panicked voices finally reaching her ears.

“—she go?”

“I can’t see her—”

“She was _just_ here—”

Her brothers came into view a second later and Arya suppressed a groan. Jon’s dark hair was flying around his face as he spun in a circle, clearly looking for her, a football tucked under his right arm. Robb’s blue eyes were wide, worry evident, and Theon was frowning, his arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the area.

They looked much more awake than they had fifteen minutes ago—Theon’s pale eyes sweeping across the trees and Jon’s gaze more alert. They’d all changed their clothes as well, all of them wearing the same thing she was—something comfortable to move around in, but bearable in the heat.

Arya dropped down from her perch, startling the three of them. Jon stumbled back a step when she landed next to him, and Robb jumped a foot in the air, Theon yelping in surprise as he clutched at his chest. She scowled at all of them. “Why are you following me?”

“Why were you in a tree?” Theon asked, gazing upwards at where she’d jumped from.

“Because there was someone _following me in the woods_ ,” She reminded him, raising an eyebrow. “I might be small but I’m not an idiot.”

“Look, Arya,” Robb started recovering. “We just want to hang out.”

“We thought you might like to hang out with your big brothers for once instead of playing alone.” Jon joined in, grinning as he elbowed her in the side playfully.

“And you didn’t think to say _hey, Arya, by the way, we’re behind you_?”

“Uh…”

“You’re lying.” She stated blandly.

Jon had the audacity to look a little hurt by her words, frowning. “Arya, why would you say that?”

She glared at him. “You all never want to hang out with me anymore.”

He faltered, not used to her ire being directed at him. “I… well—”

“Mum sent you.” She said flatly. At their sheepish gaze, she huffed in annoyance. "I thought we were past this.”

“Mum and dad are just worried about you.” Robb said.

“I’m _fine_!” Arya hissed. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath, calming herself down. “Just… all of you, just go. Tell mum and dad that I played footie with you and you all decided to go home after. You don’t have to stay and _play_ with me.” She shot Jon a dark look.

“Arya, we’re not leaving.” Robb scowled at her tone, crossing his arms over his chest. He was only twelve, but he was already a head taller than her.

“Well, you’re certainly not coming with _me_.”

Robb rolled his eyes, irritated. “Why do you have to be so difficult about these things?”

“Why do _you_?”

“Arya, please.” Jon dropped a hand onto her shoulder. She turned to him, her eyes fiery. “We care about you and we just want you to be safe.”

“I am safe!” She told him, having to stop herself from stomping her foot.

“You don’t know who could be lurking out here!” Robb exclaimed, waving his arms around.

“Yeah, actually, I do—it’s _you_!” Arya yelled back, frustration getting the better of her. “I have never _once_ seen anyone out here except for you idiots!”

“And what are you gonna do when there _is_ someone out here, hm?” Robb asked.

“The same thing I did with you three—I’ll hide.”

“And if they find you?”

“Then I’ll fight.” She snarled, patience thinning.

Robb shook his head, auburn curls bouncing. “See! This is why mum and dad are worried!”

“It’s not going to come to that!”

“You don’t know that it won’t!”

“You don’t know that it will!”

“Okay, both of you take a deep breath,” Jon slid in between them, carefully herding Arya away. Theon stepped up, being unnaturally quiet as he pressed Robb back a step or two. “Yelling at each other isn’t going to help.”

“You’re all treating me like a kid!” Arya huffed.

“Arya, you _are_ a kid.” Jon reminded her gently. She crossed her arms, barely able to keep the pout off of her face. “Robb’s worried about you because he loves you.”

“But he doesn’t trust me.” She said. Jon frowned, concerned by the misery in her voice. Arya refused to look at him, kicking her shoe into the mud around her. “None of you trust me.”

Robb hesitated for a second before insisting, “Yes we do.”

“No, you don’t.” Arya sighed. “Or else you wouldn’t be trying to spy on me.”

“We weren’t _spying_ on—”

“You were following me without telling me to see what I was up to. That’s spying.”

“Arya…” Robb groaned. He ran a hand through his curls, looking weary as he stared down at her. “Aren’t you afraid of something happening to you out here? All alone with no one to help?”

Arya frowned, shaking her head. “What kinds of things?”

Her brother groaned again. “I don’t know! Thieves, murderers, rapists! Something like that!”

“No!” She retorted, blushing furiously. “I’m not afraid!”

“You should be!” Robb asserted. “You never know who could be lurking out here, just waiting for an unsuspecting little girl to stumble into their traps! You wouldn’t be able to fight off a grown man, Arya, and they could hurt you or _worse_! And there’d be no one to help you and you’d die alone!”

“Seven hells Robb.” Theon grimaced.

“That’s not going to happen!” Arya shouted back, ignoring Theon.

“It could!” He snapped. “They’d take you and they’d kill you and dump your body in the river and none of us would know.”

“Robb!” Jon shouted, aghast.

“Mate…” Theon stepped forward, looking surprised by Robb’s outburst.

A pearl of fear shot through her and she tamped it down, glaring at her brother. “That’s it.” She stomped forward and grabbed Robb by the ear, ignoring his shout of pain and Jon and Theon’s questioning yelps. She dragged him back towards the house, kicking him when he tried to break free.

Robb was forcibly returned to the Stark household by his youngest sister, bent nearly in half because of her small size, his ear pinched between her thumb and pointer finger. Jon and Theon followed behind her quietly, shooting her apologetic glances every time Robb yelled something rude at her when she dragged him through thorn bushes.

Jon opened the back door when they got to the house, allowing the four of them to tumble into the kitchen, where the rest of the Stark family glanced up in surprise. Her mother was at the stove, making breakfast for Bran and Rickon, who were seated at the counter. Even Sansa was in the room, sitting at the table as she read.

At the sight of Arya dragging Robb into the house by the ear, her whole family turned to her, startled. Her mother stepped forward. “Arya?”

“Your son,” She hissed. “Needs to apologize to me.”

Arya shoved Robb towards their mother, finally releasing him. His ear was scarlet, and he straightened up, rubbing the side of his head as he glared at her. Their mother looked between them, frowning. “For what?”

“For telling me I was gonna get raped and die alone in the woods!”

Sansa spat out the juice she’d been drinking, and their mother banged her knee into the cabinets as she startled, whirling towards her eldest child to yell, “Robb Stark!”

“Why on earth would you say something like that?” Sansa asked, gaping at him.

“She wasn’t listening to me and I just got angry!” Robb said defensively. “I didn’t mean to scare her!”

Their mother picked up the magazine sitting on the island beside her and rolled it up, whacking Robb over the head as she pointed at Arya, “Apologize to your sister. Now.”

Robb rubbed at the back of his head but turned to Arya sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Arya. I shouldn’t have said all that stuff.”

Arya sniffed and turned away from him petulantly. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He shifted from foot to foot, ashamed. “Do you forgive me?”

Arya eyed him for a moment. “Fine.”

“Get out of here,” Their mother shooed Robb away, looking disgruntled. “Looking at you is giving me a headache.”

Robb grumbled, still rubbing at the back of his head. Bran and Rickon were gaping at the scene, confused, but Sansa looked like she was seconds away from laughing. Robb grabbed Jon and Theon by the shirts, dragging them out of the room. As they were about to round the corner, Jon glanced back to see Arya smirking at them.

He froze at the base of the stairs, his eyes going wide as realization dawned on him. Arya ignored the chattering of her mother and Sansa, who were whispering back and forth to each other at the table about Robb’s actions. Arya’s lips curled up further as Jon’s dark eyes narrowed at her.

Arya winked mischievously and turned around, striding back into the yard.

AGE TWELVE:

The morning that Arya started her period had begun like any other day.

The sun had been high in the sky, the house was quiet and serene, and she woke peacefully from her sleep on her own accord. Arya had tossed the comforter back from her bed and yawned, heading into the bathroom in her bedroom. However, when she finally started coming to, she realized something was wrong.

Something itchy and wet had pooled between her thighs and when she sat on the toilet, she was startled at the blood staining her sleep shorts and underwear. She tore them off and tossed them in the sink, cranking the water to the hottest setting to let the blood drain. She forced herself to relax and carried on doing her business.

Sansa’s period had started a few months prior to Arya’s and the house had nearly gone into panic when she’d timidly asked her mother to buy her pads. Sansa, usually quite mild mannered and polite, had completely changed. The boys didn’t know how to handle an emotional Sansa, one who was moody and angry and hungry all the time.

Her mother had sat her down that evening and quietly explained that Arya’s would be coming soon and that she should prepare for it. _It might make you feel weird, and you might not understand why you feel the way you do, but I promise you that it’s completely normal,_ she had said.

Arya thought back to her mother’s words, pondering. She didn’t _feel_ different necessarily, but she knew that the mood swings would come eventually. She cleaned herself up and hopped in the shower, getting rid of the blood on her thighs and legs. She dressed in clean clothes and snuck into Sansa’s bathroom.

She stole a pad from her sister and put it on carefully, heading back into her room immediately. It felt weird to her, almost like what she would imagine wearing a diaper would feel like. She walked around until she got used to it and bunched up her dirty sheets, dragging them downstairs.

Her mother and father appeared to be the only two awake, her father cooking at the stove and her mother reading at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of her. Her mother paused when she saw Arya standing in the doorway, holding her sheets. She frowned in concern. “Is everything alright, Arya?”

“I started my period.” Arya admitted quietly.

Her father banged his knee in surprise and her mother’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh! Alright, let me take those from you.”

“Thanks.” Arya passed the sheets over carefully. Her mother carried them into their laundry room, Arya following behind her silently.

“Did you—”

“I took a pad from Sansa’s room.” Arya cut her mother off.

“Good.” Her mother said. “We’ll get you some stuff for your bathroom after breakfast.”

“Okay.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” Arya shrugged. “I don’t really feel different.”

“You might not.” Her mother shrugged. “But it might come later, too.”

The day continued without a hitch. She never told her brothers or sister about her revelation, choosing instead to head down to the park for the tennis tournament that had started the day before. She usually preferred to watch the footie matches, but enjoyed the fast pace of tennis too.

She sat in the bleachers amongst the friends, family, and observers, clapping whenever someone hit a solid serve, or when the match ended. Towards the afternoon, she started to grow hungry and wandered back home, her stomach grumbling the whole way to her house. She made a beeline straight for the fridge when she got inside.

There was a bright orange bag of Reese’s Pieces on top of the fridge, an obnoxiously large family-size that Theon had bought as a joke, and she tugged it down. She cut it open and scooped the black, orange, and yellow candies out by the handful, stuffing them into her mouth as she crunched them.

She took the bag with her into the living room, flopping down on the couch as she ate. She flicked the television on to a footie game, her eyes following Jaime Lannister, the newest member of the Kingsguard’s footie club, as he darted up the field, knocking Bronn Blackwater, captain of the Sellswords, to the ground.

The game was surprisingly brutal for a footie match, with men getting shoved to the ground at every change of play. Arya watched the game with interest, popping more candies into her mouth. By the time one of her family members made an appearance, the match was at the seventy-five minute mark.

Theon appeared in the doorway to the living room, sweating and dirty. She could tell by his clothes that he, Robb, and Jon had been out running, which was part of their conditioning for footie. He blinked at where she was sprawled out on the couch, the now-empty bag of Reese’s Pieces discarded on the floor.

“Did you eat all of that?” He nodded to the bag.

“Yep.”

“…Why?”

She scowled. “I wanted it.”

His eyebrows shot up onto his forehead. “Okay…”

“Mind your business, Theon.”

“Yes ma’am.” Theon snickered as he left the room, holding his hands up in surrender. She heard him trudge up the stairs, his sneakers patting lightly against the floor. A moment later, the front door opened again and Jon and Robb’s voice floated into the house as they entered, laughing.

“Arya,” Jon looked surprised to see her when they moved past the doorway, both of them backing up to stare at her the same way Theon had. She was laying almost diagonally across the couch, one leg on the coffee table and the other bent up almost to her chest. One arm was behind her head and the other was dangling off the couch and onto the floor. “You’re home.”

“Yes.” She stated plainly.

“Didn’t expect you to be home.” Jon raised a dark eyebrow at her.

“Did you eat all those candies?” Robb interjected, blue eyes narrowing at the bag.

Arya rolled her eyes, irritated. “Yes, I did. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You hardly eat that much at dinner.” Jon pointed out. It was a fair point—no matter how delicious the food was, Arya just simply was disinterested. She ate whatever was put in front of her and would always finish it, but never went back for seconds, or thirds, in Theon and Bran’s case.

“Piss off.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Robb’s eyebrows flattened into a frown at her tone.

“I’m tired of everyone getting all up in my shit.” She barked back at him, sitting upright.

Robb scoffed and even Jon looked surprised. “We’re not _getting all up in your shit,_ Arya. Seven hells, relax.”

“Don’t fucking tell me to relax.”

“Hey! Language!” Jon snapped.

“Fuck you!”

“Arya!”

“What is with all the yelling?” Their mother came storming down the stairs, frowning down at all of them as she reached the last step. “I could hear you lot upstairs.”

“Arya’s in a mood.” Robb grumbled, glaring at his youngest sister.

“You’re being a prick.” Arya retorted, her small frame trembling with a rage she was unfamiliar with.

“Oh,” Her mother’s sympathetic tone caught her attention. She didn’t appear to be mad—if anything, she looked amused. “I see.”

“What?” Arya bit out, twitching under her mother’s mirthful gaze.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and lay down for a bit, Arya.” Her mother said carefully.

“I don’t want to.”

“I think you’ll feel better if you do.” Her mother insisted, raising a ginger eyebrow. At once, Arya understood what was happening. _Fucking mood swings._

“Maybe you’re right.” Arya said after a beat, the fight leaving her immediately. She stood and walked past her brother and her cousin, heading straight upstairs and climbing into her bed. She stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the curious glances Jon and Robb shot her as they headed to their own rooms down the hall.

Her mother rapped her knuckles against the door and stepped inside, quietly shutting it behind her. “How are you feeling now?”

“Embarrassed.” She admitted. “I don’t know why I got so angry. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That would be the hormones.” Her mother laughed. “There’s medication you can take to help control them a bit better. Trust me, it gets easier to manage but the first swing is always the hardest.”

“Will you tell Theon, Robb, and Jon I’m sorry?” Arya asked.

“Of course.”

“Does it get easier?”

“It does.” Her mother assured her. “Right now, it’s tough to distinguish between the mood swings and your actual feelings. You’ll learn how to tell the difference as you get older.”

“And I have to deal with this every month?”

Her mother chuckled. “I’m afraid so.”

Arya flopped back on the bed, groaning. “Great.”

AGE THIRTEEN:

Her father’s brother, her Uncle Benjen, was an interesting man to say the least. He’d once been believed to be dead, according to her mother and father, but had mysteriously returned a few months after going missing, alive and well, with only a few random scars to prove that anything had happened at all.

The “incident” had occurred when she was young, too young to have paid attention to things like that. But she still remembered the funeral they’d gone to anyway, the one where her mother had forced her into a black dress that made her arms itch. She also remembered her father’s face when Benjen showed up on the porch almost a year later, alive.

He’d also returned with a puppy in tow, a tiny mass of dark fur that had practically purred whenever someone ran their fingers along her back. Of course, the dog, as they would all later find out, was actually a Newfoundland, and grew to be well over a hundred pounds and almost three feet tall.

The first time Benjen brought his full-grown dog over to the house, her mother had nearly fainted. Arya had sprinted away from her family, instantly tanging her fingers in the massive dog’s fur. The dog had only licked her face and calmly laid down, letting Arya climb all over her as she doted on her.

So, when her mother mentioned that Ranger, Benjen’s dog, had had puppies, she was thrilled to be able to meet them. They drove to Benjen’s house in two separate cars, with Arya sitting with her father, Jon, Robb, and Theon in her father’s car, and her mother driving Sansa, Bran, and Rickon in her car.

Benjen’s house was nice and modest, nothing too large or ostentatious. As they clambered out of the car, she could hear the yips and barks coming from inside. She darted up onto the porch without waiting for the rest of her family, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she rang the doorbell. Benjen answered, looking frazzled.

“Ah,” Benjen said, glancing behind him to where the barking had intensified at the sound of the bell. “You’re all here.”

“Hello Benjen.” Her father greeted.

“Can we see them?” Arya asked, darting into Benjen’s line of sight. He sighed and glanced down at her, nodding. He stepped back and wandered into his hallway, leaving the rest of them to trail after him.

“Be careful, Arya, they’re quite excited and they have sharp teeth.” He warned her, leading her further into the house. Arya took a quick inventory of her uncle’s appearance—he was more haggard looking than usual, and his clothes had small tears in them. His arms and hands were littered with cuts and angry, red marks.

The rest of the family followed behind her more sedately, peering into the living room, which was penned off by a thin, white baby-gate, and filled with tiny moving balls of fur. Ranger sat on the couch, surveying her pups as they ran around the room. When they realized that more people had entered the house, they only howled louder.

“That’s a lot of dogs.” Theon said, staring blankly.

“Ranger had six pups.” Benjen agreed, looking somber. “I’ve been going crazy.”

“How old are they?” Her mother asked, her face twisted in concern.

“Almost three months.”

“Seven hells.”

“Can I go see them?” Arya tapped her uncle’s arm gingerly.

He peered down at her, frowning. “Yes, you can. _But,_ you have to be mindful of the teeth.” He reiterated, absently rubbing at the bite marks on his arms.

“That won’t be a problem.” Arya waved his concern away, making Benjen’s scowl deepen. Arya climbed over the baby gate and immediately sat on the floor, opening her arms in excitement as the pups rushed her curiously. “Hello!” She said cheerily, snagging a solid white one and rubbing along his back.

The dog rubbed against her knee, accepting the pats she gave him. The other dogs started vying for her attention, more curious than afraid now, yipping and climbing on her legs. The solid white one that she’d been petting slunk away, back towards where the gate was. He sat down directly in front of Jon.

“Careful with that one,” Benjen warned as Arya reached for a white dog with brown markings. “She’s feisty.”

“She’s lovely.” Arya corrected, scooping the dog into her chest. The dog settled almost immediately, licking at her face and neck. Arya cooed, delighted.

Benjen stared, dismayed. “She’s letting you hold her.”

“She’s so beautiful.” Arya murmured, rubbing the tip of her nose along the dog’s head. The pup yipped excitedly, wiggling around in Arya’s arms to lick at her cheeks.

“When I tried to pick her up, she bit me. Four times.”

“Maybe she just doesn’t like you.”

Her mother glared, putting her hands on her hips. “Arya.”

“Sorry.”

“Can I see them too, Uncle Benjen?” Sansa asked quietly, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Her pale eyes were watching the dogs with curiosity, and Arya could tell she was itching to climb inside.

“Of course.”

Sansa clambered into the room hesitantly, sitting next to Arya on the floor. A pup with similar coloring to the one Arya was holding trotted up to Sansa immediately, curling into her lap. Sansa’s lower lip wobbled as she gazed down at the small bundle of fur starting to fall asleep on her legs. “Hello, darling.”

A tawny pup wandered over to the gate and stood back on his hind legs, staring up at her family inquisitively. He didn’t make a sound, only cocked his head imploringly. The family stared back at it. Bran cracked first, scooping the near-orange colored dog up into his arms as he climbed over the gate, cradling him against his chest. “Hello mate.”

“Oh hells.” Robb muttered, hopping into the room. Instantly, a dark pup jumped up on his legs, digging his claws into Robb’s jeans. Robb yelped in surprise, stumbling backwards and falling until his ass hit the ground. The dog climbed onto his lap and licked at his face, sitting up to scent Robb’s curly hair.

“This one is so quiet.” Rickon commented, stepping over the gate to scoop up a black pup from the floor. The dog didn’t move at all, resting limply in Rickon’s arms as he carried him to where the rest of Arya’s siblings were seated on the ground, now-sleeping pups in their laps. “He’s a bit shaggy though, isn’t he?”

“There’s one left for you, Jon.” Theon nudged Jon in the shoulder, to where the last remaining pup, the solid white one with red eyes, sat patiently. It was the smallest of the bunch, the one Arya had initially picked up, and had sat in front of the gate the whole time, staring up at her cousin, transfixed.

“Hello, boy.” Jon said cautiously, holding out a hand for the small pup to smell. The dog sniffed Jon’s palm daintily, before a tiny, pink tongue darted out and softly licked Jon’s fingers. Arya watched, amused, as Jon’s face melted in amazement and happiness, a smile cracking on his usually-somber appearance.

“What about you, Theon?” Arya asked, raising an eyebrow. “Even you’ve got to admit they’re cute.”

He shrugged. “I’m more of a cat person.”

“I think I’m gonna name her Lady,” Sansa told Arya, smiling brightly, her fingers gently stroking through her dog’s fur. “It sort of fits her, doesn’t it?”

Arya nodded, turning her attention back to the pup that was resting against her chest, panting happily. “I’ll name mine Nymeria,” Arya decided, beaming. “After the Winterfell Direwolves captain.”

“We’re not keeping them, loves.” Her mother’s voice hit her like ice water. “Don’t go naming them.”

“What do you mean?” Robb was the first to ask, his face falling. The dog in his arms was still playing with him, nipping at his fingers as he turned his attention away. Arya noted that Robb’s hands were already bleeding and that he had red welts appearing on his forearms.

“These are Uncle Benjen’s dogs.” Her mother said hesitantly, glancing at her brother-in-law for help.

“Actually…” Benjen said sheepishly. Her mother’s face paled. Benjen rubbed at the back of his neck, not quite looking her mother in the eye. “I was hoping you guys could take a few of them off of my hands. I mean, I’m happy for you to take all of them—”

“I’ve got to keep Nymeria, she’s perfect!”

“I want Lady!”

“Shaggydog deserves a home, too!”

“Summer’s so gentle and sweet, mum!”

“Dad, look at Grey Wind, he’s so playful!”

“Mrs. Stark, they’re really quite lovely dogs…”

“Oh, for Seven’s sake…” Their father groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’ve already named them, Cat. We’re doomed.”

“Ned! We can’t just adopt six puppies!” Her mother waved her arms around, exasperated. “We already have seven children!”

“Well, _technically_ , Jon’s a cousin and I’m—”

“Shut _up_ , Theon!”

Her father sighed. “Cat, I know that—”

“You can’t be serious right now!”

“I’ll take really good care of Lady, mother, I promise!” Sansa begged, lifting the dog and clutching it to her chest. The light colored pup stood out against the dark, fiery orange of Sansa’s hair.

“Nymeria can come on walks with me to the park!”

“Ghost can come running with Robb and Theon and me.” Jon announced, his fingers still running through the dog’s bright white fur. “That way he won’t have a ton of energy.”

“Truthfully, once they’re fully grown, they’re big couch potatoes.” Benjen offered. “Comes with being so large.”

“See!”

“Mother, it’s perfect—!”

“Enough!” Their mother shouted, covering her face with her hands. The Stark children quieted immediately, though their fingers tightened in the fur of their respective dogs. After a long pause, Arya’s mother lifted her head, her blue eyes weary. “Ned, I don’t know what we’re supposed to do here.” 

Ned Stark turned to survey his children. Each one was holding a pup to their chest, eyes cagey and defensive. He sighed resignedly and turned back to his wife, raising an eyebrow. “Well, we’re either leaving this house with six new dogs or six angry children. Your pick.”

“I hate you.”

AGE FOURTEEN:

The sun was high in the sky and the breeze was cool, but refreshing, in the heat. Arya arrived at the park after finishing her history homework, unsurprised to see the grounds teeming with people. She had changed her clothes before leaving her home, putting on comfortable clothes for running around.

She’d been joining pick-up games for a few years now, usually with some hesitance from the other players. Arya was still small, even as a teenager, and she knew that people naturally worried about hurting her in such an aggressive sport. However, usually after a moment or two, they always seemed to understand that she wasn’t a gentle flower to be trampled.

That being said, she’d had her fair share of awkward encounters. The first time she’d asked to join, the women playing had let her cautiously, and she realized ten minutes in that they all thought she was a young boy. When she’d laughed and told them she was actually a girl, they’d relaxed, and the game had gone phenomenally better afterwards.

She’d once kicked the ball a little too firmly, missing the net by inches, and knocking out a young girl sunbathing in the field behind them. After profusely apologizing and making sure the girl was okay, Arya had returned to find the game concluded, as the others were wary of hurting anyone else nearby.

She found that older boys were the hardest to convince, since they saw her size and stature and immediately turned her away. She usually had to argue her way onto the field or find someone else to play with, but most of the time she was able to eventually wear them down enough to agree to let her onto the field.

Having said that, she was nearly stunned into silence when the boys in front of her tried to talk her out of joining them. There were nine of them in total, all older than her, and they stared at her like she was something foreign and unknown. She could only cock her head to the side and watch as they scrambled to find ways to dissuade her.

“You might get hurt.” A tall one at the back told her. His voice was deep and gruff and the whole side of his face was scarred with what looked like burn marks. He raised an eyebrow at her, eyes darting up and down her petite frame.

Annoyance coursed through her as she shifted, crossing her arms. “I’ve played footie before, you know.”

“I don’t mind if she plays.” Arya turned to see a shirtless boy about Robb’s age standing near the side, eyeing her. He was handsome, Arya noted, with dark hair and pale blue eyes. He was huge, built like a bull, but stood meekly when her gaze turned to him. Arya smirked at him, pleased. She turned to the others and quirked an eyebrow daringly.

“We’re a lot bigger than you.” The blonde pointed out. _He_ wasn’t bigger than her necessarily, and if he was, it was only in height, but the others all certainly were.

“Good, then you’ll be slower than me, too.” She fired back. A bark of laughter drew her eyes to the dark-haired boy from before, watching in amusement as he tried to cover up his laugh with a cough unsuccessfully.

“Look, it’s just not a game for girls.” The blonde finally said.

Arya felt her face go blank. “So, you think because I’m a girl, I can’t play footie?”

“I…well…” His eyes darted out to the sides, looking for help, but none of the other boys stepped up to defend him.

“That’s incredibly sexist of you.” She cut him off, eyes narrowed. “I have five brothers, all about your ages and sizes, and _they_ don’t seem to mind if I play against them. Three of them are currently playing for Winterfell’s footie team and I don’t think I need to remind you that they’ve been the reigning champions for three years straight.”

“I just—”

“ _And_ ,” She cut him off, glaring fiercely. He swallowed at the venom in her voice. “It’s not like any of you are good enough to do any real damage to me, anyway.”

“Why do you want to play then?” A larger boy asked. He was standing next to the dark-haired boy, whose eye twitched in annoyance at the boy’s words.

“Thought it might be a good way to pass my time, enjoy the nice weather.” Arya said, glaring. 

The field went silent. The tall one with the burns was eyeing her curiously and so was the slightly shorter man next to him. Finally, after a beat, the dark-haired boy spoke again. “I say we let her join. We could use someone aggressive on our team.” Though the word _aggressive_ wasn’t always used positively, Arya could tell he meant it as a compliment.

She turned to meet his blue eyes. He held her gaze steadily and she felt a twinge of pleasure when he subconsciously straightened up under her harsh stare. She searched his eyes for a second before deciding that she liked him. She nodded and turned to the others, raising an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Fine.” The blonde muttered.

“Cheers.” Arya grinned sarcastically, delighting in the way he stomped back to center field. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and tossed it towards the edge of the field where it slid out of bounds and tied her hair back.

“I’m Gendry,” The dark-haired boy introduced himself as she came to stand next to him. He gave her an apologetic smile. Up close, he was even bigger than she’d thought. She barely came up to his shoulder. “Sorry about them.”

“Arya.” She told him, unbothered. “And don’t worry about it. I’m used to it.”

“Still.” She glanced at him, finding his eyes already on her. She understood was he was trying to say and gave him a small, appreciative smile. He returned it and they both turned back around, eyes focused on the black and white ball on the field. The other boys fell into position and the match started.

It was all too easy to score the first goal.

She stole a pass most likely intended for Gendry and started sprinting up the field, her eyes ahead of her to watch for incoming players. None of the boys expected her to be so fast, and they yelled in surprise when she flew by them, chasing after her instantly. The tall one with the burns tried to cut her off, but she spun out of his way.

She wound her leg back and kicked hard, blistering the ball right by the shocked goaltender, who blinked as it passed him. It hit the back of the net, swishing it around as she took the time to take a deep breath. She ignored the stares as she trotted back to the other side of the field, back in position. Gendry joined her with a grin.

The next round started with less hesitation. The tall one was keeping an eye on her, which was why he wasn’t expecting her to run straight at him, the ball dancing between her feet. She got within a few feet of him and swept the ball to the side, directly passing it to Gendry, who was only a few feet behind her and to her right.

He took it slightly upfield and knocked it into the upper right-hand corner.

“Clegane!” The blonde boy shouted in frustration as the goalkeeper retrieved the ball.

“Like you would’ve done differently, asshole.” The tall one, Clegane, snorted. “She’s fucking fast.”

As the game continued, she slowly learned the names of the boys she was playing with. There was obviously Gendry, who was quickly becoming her right hand on the field. The other guys on her team were Hot Pie, the chubbier boy, Ned, a quieter lad with pale hair, and Lem, who was slightly older and wearing an alarming shade of yellow.

On the other team was Clegane, the tall, gruff man with the burns, who was joined by Lommy, the blonde boy she’d argued with before. They also had Thoros, a man with a particularly scraggly beard, Beric, who had thin hair and a rather unusual eyepatch on, and Anguy, who was quick and nimble on his feet. 

They all had a rapport going that she envied slightly, though she couldn’t exactly figure out where they all must’ve known each other from, since their ages seemed to vary from mid-teens to mid-twenties. Despite their age gaps, they all seemed to banter well—particularly Gendry and Clegane, who spent most of the match elbowing each other jovially.

The next three goals she scored only took her fifteen minutes. She’d shoved the guy with the eyepatch, Beric, to the ground and stolen the ball, sneaking one in past Anguy, the goalie for the other team. The next goal she kicked from nearly mid-field, getting a lucky half-bounce that was just out of Anguy’s reach.

On her way to score her fourth goal, she was watching her footwork, working on controlling the ball, when she was roughly shoved from the side. Her feet left the ground and she tucked, landing straight in a puddle of mud. She rolled to her feet immediately, not even caring that she was caked in dark, black sludge.

Clegane, the one who’d shoved her, blinked at her in surprise when she sprinted past him. She could hear them running after her, but she ignored them, sliding on the ground in front of Lommy, the blonde boy, and effectively stealing the ball from him as he stumbled. She turned and took off up the field.

She ducked around Thoros and Beric, laughing openly when they smashed into each other and faked to the left as she gained on Anguy in goal. He dove, just as she knew he would, and he she let the ball roll into the right side of the net, lightly disturbing the net behind it. Anguy groaned on the ground, closing his eyes in frustration.

Arya trotted back up the field, grinning when she heard Hot Pie, Ned, and Lem, hers and Gendry’s other three teammates, cheering. Gendry ran up to her, beaming, and held his hand out. She high fived him, grinning further when he exclaimed, “If you’re going to keep playing like that, you’re always welcome on my team.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She laughed but was pleased by his words.

Her team ended up winning by two goals, five of them being hers. Lommy had stomped to his car in the parking lot after the game ended, but Beric and Clegane swarmed on her as everyone started dispersing. Beric held out a hand, beaming, as they cornered her. “Beric Dondarrion, pleasure to meet you.”

“Arya.” She said back, laughing.

“Sandor Clegane, but you can call me whatever. I don’t fucking care.” Clegane said, shaking her hand next. He looked her up and down. “You’re good.”

“Thank you.” She said politely. “I wish I could say the same for you.”

Something akin to delight twinkled in Clegane’s eyes as Beric guffawed with laughter. “You’ve got some spunk, lass! I like you!”

“Snarky little shit.” Clegane muttered, but there was no bite to it. Arya could’ve sworn that the corner of his lip was tilted upwards in a smirk. He looked at her appraisingly and she met his stare unflinchingly, raising a brow at him.

“You should come back and play again,” Beric said easily, smiling charmingly as his laughter finally subsided. “It’s been a while since we’ve had that much fun at a game.”

“I’ll consider it.” Arya told them lightly.

“Don’t act like you didn’t have fun.”

“I won’t lie, I had a blast.” Arya admitted. “I always enjoy beating men who underestimate me.”

“You can’t really blame us.” Clegane snorted. “You’re the size of my pinky.”

“You’re old enough to know better than to judge a book by its cover.” Arya said, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Are you calling me old, girl?”

“Maybe.”

“We hope to see you again, Arya.” Beric told her, still smiling as he dragged Clegane away before he could retort.

Arya shook her head, laughing slightly, as she made her way over to where Gendry and Hot Pie were picking up their things. Gendry had put his shirt back on, the fabric clinging to his damp skin. She averted her gaze. His eyes followed her as she made her way to them and Hot Pie turned to her. “You’re really good.”

“Thank you.” Arya repeated, the praise heating her cheeks up a little.

As they started walking, Gendry blurted out, “Are you gonna come back and play with us again?”

“Maybe.” She said, stunned by the question. She didn’t know why it surprised her so much that he asked—Beric and Clegane had asked her the same thing, after all—but it did.

He smiled at her. “Well, like I said, you’re always welcome on my team.”

After a brief moment of deliberation, she held her fingers out and took Gendry’s phone, giving him her number. He seemed flabbergasted, but happy nonetheless. His concern for her when she told him she’d be walking home was cute, but slightly annoying. She finally managed to convince him that she’d be fine and they went their separate ways.

The whole way back to the house, her mind replayed the afternoon. It had been a good day—apart from Lommy’s rude dismissal and everyone’s initial hesitance to let her play. Well, everyone except Gendry. Though he’d looked nervous after Clegane shoved her to the ground, he’d gotten over it quick enough when she’d rolled to her feet.

By the time she got back to the house, she was mad again, Lommy’s snide comments filling her head. She stomped up the backyard, grumbling under her breath. She entered the house with more noise than she usually did, banging around in the kitchen as she drained a glass of water.

Bran and Summer, his now-massive tawny Newfoundland, were the only ones there when she came into the living room and her brother blinked at her as she sat down in the loveseat next to him. “Hello.” He said dryly. “How are you?”

“I’m pissed off.” Arya snapped back. Nymeria trotted into the room at the sound of her voice and patiently sat down at her feet. Arya rubbed her back lightly, still glaring at nothing.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Why do boys have to be so stupid?” Arya whined, Lommy’s sour face frozen in her mind.

“I’ll try not to take offense at that.” Bran said, and Arya held back a snort. He closed his textbook and shifted towards her. “What did Robb do this time?”

Arya paused, confused. “What?” She shook her head, understanding. “No, not Robb. This time, anyway.”

“Jon?”

“No, none of the boys.” She shook her head again. “A different boy. A stupid, arrogant, sexist motherfu—”

“Bran?” Arya froze at her mother’s voice floating down the stairs. “Did Arya just come home?”

Arya took a deep breath and raised her voice to call back up to her mother. “Yes, mother. I’m home.”

“Just checking!” Their mother yelled back, her footsteps receding from the staircase.

Arya sighed and leaned back against the couch, rubbing at her forehead while Bran patiently waited for her to explain. “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t do the things boys can do.”

Bran cocked his head. “Yes…” He said slowly. “I don’t think anyone in this house would debate that.”

Arya smiled for a second, remembering, before Lommy’s face popped into her head again. She scowled. “Exactly. Which is why it’s so bloody frustrating to be told I can’t do something just because I’m a girl.”

Bran snorted. “I pity the fool who tries to tell you what to do.”

Arya grinned at him, pleased. “I was down in the fields and there was a footie scrimmage going on. I asked if I could join and the guys playing told me no, even though they were playing uneven teams.”

Bran raised an eyebrow and motioned to her body, which was still caked in dirt. “I’m going to guess by your appearance that you didn’t take no for an answer?”

Arya smiled with too many teeth. “Hell no. I bitched them out a bit first, for being sexist.”

“As you should.”

“But one of the boys there told them to let me join, since they were losing anyway. Gendry, I think his name was.” She didn’t really know why she pretended not to remember, but the idea of her family knowing about Gendry made her queasy. “I don’t know, something weird like that. Anyway, they finally let me play.”

“And?”

Arya smirked. “I wiped the floor with them.”

“I would expect nothing less from you.” Bran’s voice was honest.

“I got tackled a couple of times, scored a handful of goals, won the game for my team.” Arya told him, shrugging. “Showed them all how a _girl_ plays.”

“Did they take it well?” Bran asked.

“Some of them, yeah.” Gendry’s face flickered into her head. “The boy who convinced them to let me play, he seemed quite nice. Told me I was always welcome on his team if I was gonna play like that.”

“Do you think you’ll go back?”

“Maybe.” Arya shrugged. “If I’m bored.”

“A bored Arya Stark is a very dangerous thing.”

“Indeed.” She grinned.

“What about the other guys?”

“You know me, Bran,” She leaned back, lazily smirking at him. “I always love to embarrass boys.” Bran laughed and shook his head at her, amused. She grinned at him before pushing to her feet, Nymeria hopping up to follow her. Before she left the room, she turned to Bran. “Thanks, Bran.”

“Of course.” Bran said, smiling gently.

“When’d you get so wise, anyway?”

“Right around the time Robb discovered boobs.”

Arya’s laughter followed her the whole way up the stairs. Nymeria raced into her room, patiently waiting on Arya’s bed when she entered. Arya ducked into her bathroom and showered quickly, watching as rivulets of mud slid off her body and into the drain below. Once the water ran clean, she hopped out and dried off.

She changed into her pajamas, intent on staying in for the night. Nymeria licked her face as she sat down on the bed and Arya huffed out a laugh, lightly shoving her away. She was surprised when her phone blinked up at her, a new message appearing on the screen from an unknown number.

**From UNKNOWN at 19:48 –**

_Beric and Sandor are already asking for a rematch, so I guess we’re playing again tomorrow around 3. You’re more than welcome to join us. We had a blast today._

Something similar to happiness settled in her chest at the message. She was grinning down at her phone when the screen lit up again with two new messages back to back.

**From UNKNOWN at 19:57 –**

_Oh, this is Gendry by the way._

**From UNKNOWN at 19:57 –**

_Gendry Waters._

Arya saved his contact and smiled as she thumbed her response back to him, standing when she heard her mother calling her downstairs for dinner.

**To Gendry Waters at 19:58 –**

_I’ll be there._

**From Gendry Waters at 19:59 –**

_Great! Can’t wait to win again._

**To Gendry Waters at 19:59 –**

_And tell Clegane that I’m going to enjoy kicking his old ass tomorrow._

**From Gendry Waters at 20:00 –**

_You know, you shouldn’t insult people that are bigger than you._

**To Gendry Waters at 20:00 –**

_Then I wouldn’t get to insult anyone._

AGE FIFTEEN:

After her first game against them, the boys had slowly and begrudgingly opened up to her, and she now considered all of them to be her friends. However, if Arya had to listen to Hot Pie complain about the heat one more time, she was going to tell Sandor to throttle him, no matter how much she liked him.

Sandor Clegane, surprisingly, was one of the first to truly accept her, with only Gendry beating him in that sense. He didn’t care that she was a girl or that she was small; he liked her no-nonsense attitude and enjoyed the petty bickering that always happened whenever the two of them were in the room together.

Beric Dondarrion was like an older brother that she didn’t need. He still treated her as a child occasionally, but Sandor and Arya were slowly training him on how to see her as a person first, little girl second. Her height didn’t really help the situation, but he’d learned to stop patting her on the head after she’d kneed him in the balls a few too many times.

Hot Pie was an interesting character, with more passion for food and baking than anything remotely athletically inclined. However, he showed up to every game without fail, often bringing sweets and treats for them that he’d made the night before. The others always grumbled about him, but Arya caught them scarfing down his gifts nonetheless.

Lem, Thoros, and specifically Anguy all took a bit more convincing. Anguy liked her athletic abilities, sure, but he didn’t particularly like being beaten by a girl, especially when he learned that Arya was also a trained archer on top of being a footie player and a fencer. He was still better than her, but part of him was still a little bitter about it.

Lommy didn’t care for Arya and she didn’t care for him. He had a piss poor attitude and she highly suspected it was because he had a thing for Gendry, who spent most of his time with Arya now. She would never expose him or ask him outright, but she often saw his gaze linger on Gendry’s muscular form for a beat too long.

Ned Dayne was probably Arya’s least favorite of the crew, and it was because he clearly had a crush on her. His eyes followed her whenever she was around, and he stood far too close for her liking. No one had ever had a crush on her before and she had absolutely no idea how to handle the situation, so she chose to avoid him like the plague.

Gendry was her favorite, though there had never really been a contest. He was charming and polite, kind and caring to everyone he met, but not overbearing in the way she hated. She genuinely enjoyed his company and missed him when he wasn’t around. Though she’d never admit it to him, he was her best friend.

They texted every day, at first only about the upcoming footie matches, but as they grew more comfortable with each other, they began talking about more personal things. Six months after meeting him, Gendry opened up to her about being sent to live with his uncle Davos after his mother passed away, his father unknown to him.

Though she was incredibly touched by his trust in her, she found it hard to open up back to him. She told him about her large family, but she never stated the names of any of her siblings or parents. Gendry, forever the gentleman, never pushed her to give away too much, and accepted whatever scraps of information that she was willing to give him.

It was probably her favorite thing about him—his blind faith in her. He knew that Arya would open up to him when she was ready, and he always made sure that she was comfortable whenever they did something new. He took her for who she was, and she loved him desperately for it.

Arya was a guarded person by nature—she and her family were distanced from each other by the blatant differences between them—so the others didn’t really know much about her. Gendry probably knew the most, but even then, it wasn’t much. She wasn’t even sure if he knew what her last name was.

The more time she spent with Gendry, the more she realized that he intended to stay in her life for a while. Sometimes, in the dark of the night, her mind would wander to what her life might look like ten, twenty years down the line. The scenarios always shared one common thing—Gendry.

It was getting harder and harder for her to imagine what her life would be like without him in it. Every time she thought of her future careers, she saw him there supporting her. Every time she dreamed of traveling to far off locations, her mind would produce an image of him beside her, grinning crookedly at her from the bow of a ship.

It was part of the reason why she finally allowed him to see where she lived.

The afternoon had started like any other. She had come home from class and put her things away, changing into her athletic gear and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. She told her mother that she was leaving and rubbed Rickon’s hair on her way out the door and disappeared into the woods.

Hot Pie had been complaining about the heat since the moment she’d arrived at the park. She had rolled her eyes at him—he was always whining about something, after all—and brushed it off. However, when he started staggering around the field, only being held up by Gendry, who’d caught him as he stumbled, she felt like shit.

“What’s wrong?” She asked him, jogging over to where Gendry was helping him remain upright.

“I feel like I’m gonna pass out.” Hot Pie told her, wheezing a little. His eyes were pinched shut and his breathing was reedy.

“Bring him here.” She instructed Gendry, ducking to Hot Pie’s other side so she could help guide him off the field. Beric and the others came over, hovering awkwardly as Hot Pie sat down in the warm grass. Arya passed him the remainder of her water. “Drink.”

“How are you feeling?” Gendry asked, crouching down next to him as Hot Pie downed the water.

“A bit better,” He admitted. “But my head’s still a little fuzzy. It’s so bloody hot out here.”

“Take a rest.” Gendry clapped him on the shoulder, standing back up. He turned to Arya, muttering under his breath. “He’s probably gonna be sick if he stays out here. I should take him home.”

“Has he been drinking enough water?” Arya asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“There’s not much shade out here either.” Arya commented as she and Gendry both craned their heads back to look up at the sky.

“Poor lad.”

Arya paused for a moment, her next words waiting on the tip of her tongue. After a beat, she said, “I know a place where he can get water and relax in some air conditioning, but we’ll have to walk.”

“That’s fine with me.” Arya and Gendry both turned to look down at Hot Pie, who was staring up at them.

“You sure you’ll be alright?” Gendry asked hesitantly.

“I’ll be okay.” Hot Pie nodded and climbed to his feet slowly, looking much steadier than he had a moment or two ago.

Arya turned to the other boys. “I’m gonna take him to get some water and we’ll be back, but it’ll probably be about thirty minutes.”

Gendry blinked at her in surprise but Beric nodded. “Just make sure he’s alright.”

“I will.” Arya said, ignoring Gendry’s look. She turned to Hot Pie and nodded towards the woods. “Just follow me.”

Gendry and Hot Pie followed a few paces behind her, Hot Pie uncharacteristically quiet. Gendry sped up a bit to walk next to Arya, who moved through the trees without hesitation. She chewed on her lips as they walked, cursing herself for leading them back to the house. _You know this was a bad idea, Arya._

“Where are we?” Gendry asked almost ten minutes later, startling her from her thoughts. He was looking ahead at where the trees were thinning and her backyard was coming into view.

She glanced at him to find him already staring at her. She looked away abruptly, refusing to meet his eyes. “My house.”

“What?” Gendry sounded gobsmacked.

She still wasn’t looking at him as they finally cleared the trees. The dogs were in the backyard, running around and playing together as Rickon sat on the deck, toying with a video game. Nymeria spotted her immediately and barked, signaling to the other five hounds, who all took off in her direction when they saw her.

She vaguely heard Gendry mutter, “Holy _shit_ , Arya,” as he stepped back from the swarm.

She ignored him, already crouching to greet her dogs. “Hello, my loves!” She cooed quietly, fingers tangling in Grey Wind’s pelt as he bumped her. Nymeria jumped and licked at her face, Lady mimicking the movements on her other side. Arya laughed, stumbling. “Hello—yes, I know, you’re very excited!”

“What the fuck?” She heard Gendry ask behind her.

“They’re gentle giants,” She said, ignoring his comments. She turned to see him eyeing her in disbelief. “Come say hi. They won’t bite.”

She watched, highly amused, as the boys moved closer in trepidation. Nymeria left her side to sniff at Hot Pie, jumping up on him. “Nice doggy.” He croaked, his voice weak as he stared into Nymeria’s dark eyes.

“Nymeria!” Arya chided lightly, laughing. Gendry was laughing with her, his handsome face open with joy. Nymeria hopped down from Hot Pie’s shoulders and trotted over to Gendry, who immediately fell silent when she plopped down in front of him.

Gendry’s pale eyes never left Nymeria’s dark ones. He was stock still when he said, “Arya. It’s staring at me.”

“ _Her_ name,” Arya corrected, shoving his shoulder a little. “Is Nymeria, and she’s mine. She just wants you to pet her, dummy.” Gendry glared at her, but hesitantly held his hand out for Nymeria to sniff. A grin spread across his face when she licked his fingers. Arya couldn’t help but smile too. “Alright you lot, shoo.”

She gestured to the dogs and they all dispersed, trotting back into the yard. She nodded her head to the house, catching Gendry and Hot Pie’s attention. They followed behind her dutifully, trudging up the massive yard towards where Rickon was eyeing them curiously from his perch on the patio.

“Mum home?” Arya asked as she approached. Her youngest sibling’s eyes were glued to Gendry and Hot Pie, not even sparing her a glance, and a ball of nerves twisted in her chest.

Rickon stood as she moved past him and followed her towards the house. “No.”

“Where is she?” Arya asked, pushing the back door open. She let the boys in and whistled for the dogs, who ran back inside and disappeared into the house. Only Nymeria stayed, deciding to settle in the kitchen next to where Gendry was awkwardly leaning against the counter.

“She took Sansa to practice.” Rickon told her, climbing onto one of the barstools at the island.

Arya headed to the cabinets, digging around for glasses. She glanced to her side to see Gendry staring down at Nymeria, who had shifted to lean against his legs. He gently placed his fingers on the top of her head, still hesitant, and lightly scratched her behind the ears. Nymeria leaned against him further, relaxing.

Gendry was grinning softly, adjusting to hold her massive weight. There was something sweet in his gaze as he looked down at her dog. Nymeria didn’t really take to many people, not even the family, but she apparently liked Gendry for some reason. Arya was filled with emotions she couldn’t name at the sight of them.

She turned back towards the cabinets after a beat and spoke over her shoulder to Rickon, ignoring the fluttering of her heart. “When will she be back?” Arya asked offhandedly, pulling glasses down from the cabinets. She stared filling them up with water from the fridge, passing the glasses to her two friends.

“Like fifteen minutes.” Rickon shrugged.

“We’ll be gone by then.” Arya relaxed.

“Where are you going?” Rickon asked, frowning.

“We have a game to finish.” She grinned.

Hot Pie groaned loudly. “Arry, no.” He shook his head, his curly hair flopping around his face. “It’s too hot to beat us up today.”

“Oh, come on,” Arya whined. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yes, it is.” Gendry raised an eyebrow at her, daring her to argue with him. He still hadn’t removed his fingers from Nymeria’s fur.

Arya glared at him. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m plenty of fun, milady, but I’m also _sensible._ ”

Arya whacked him on the arm, but Gendry was anticipating the action and didn’t move a muscle. “I told you not to call me that.”

“You live in a bloody mansion, _milady_.” He leered, blue eyes twinkling as he looked down at her.

Arya glared at him. “Just for that, I’ll make sure to kick you extra hard later when I beat you. Again.”

“Seven hells.” Gendry groaned, knowing that she meant it. Arya smirked triumphantly, taking another sip of her water.

“You’re going to beat them up?” Rickon asked, confused.

Arya barked out a laugh, amused by her brother’s innocence. “No, Rickon, not really. We’re just playing footie. These two suck.”

“You should ask Theon and them to play!” Rickon told her.

Arya sighed and shook her head. “The boys are busy at practice,” She reminded him. “Besides, I’m already so much better than them.”

“Why does that matter?” Rickon frowned, his young face scrunching up. He waved a hand at Gendry and Hot Pie. “I thought you said they sucked, too.”

Arya grinned. “They do.”

“Your sister is the devil.” Hot Pie muttered darkly.

“That’s what Sansa says, too.” Rickon nodded his head gravely.

Arya scowled when Gendry let out a loud laugh. Arya crossed her arms over her chest and huffed loudly. “Well, Sansa’s not all rainbows and sunshine either.”

A dangerous smirk tugged at the corners of Gendry’s mouth as he turned to Rickon, leaning slightly forward to ask, “Say, Rickon, do you have any funny stories about Arya?”

“Gendry, don’t you dare!” Arya hissed, smacking him again.

“Funny stories?” Rickon asked slowly, looking between them.

“Embarrassing stories,” Gendry corrected, ignoring Arya’s glare. “Your sister spends all her time beating me and Hot-Pie up and making us look like idiots, so I think it’s only fair that we get to embarrass her as well.”

“I don’t make you look like idiots. You’re both _already_ idiots.” Arya grumbled before she whirled on Rickon, wagging a finger in his face. “And don’t you say a thing.”

Rickon was quiet for a moment before he blurted out, “What about the time mum made Arya wear a skirt to school and she ripped it off halfway through the day and walked around in her underwear before they brought her something else to wear?”

Gendry and Hot Pie howled with laughter as Arya glared at her younger brother. “I was in the second grade and you weren’t even cognizant yet!”

“Cognizant?” Rickon frowned at the word, stumbling over the unfamiliar sound.

“Oh, never mind!” Arya huffed and picked up all of the discarded glasses, tossing them in the sink. Her face was burning as she grabbed Gendry and Hot Pie’s shirt sleeves and dragged them outside. She stomped all the way back down the yard, back into the trees, and headed straight for the park.

The story Rickon had told wasn’t even embarrassing, but she didn’t like being laughed at, especially not by Gendry. Arya had always known she was unusual—she was the complete opposite of everyone in her family and had always stood out like a sore thumb—but she had been getting better at not letting that get to her.

She didn’t mind that she was different, and she took pride in her individuality, but it was times like these, when handsome boys were laughing at her, that she hated that part of herself. If she had grown to like dresses like Sansa, or held herself with grace like her mother, this wouldn’t be happening.

Usually, she couldn’t care less what boys thought about her, but she was fifteen years old and boys were fun to look at sometimes. Most boys were idiots, and the only boy she could confidently say she _liked_ was Gendry, but he was her best friend and she’d never let herself think of him as anything else.

In the year that she’d known him, they had grown closer than she could’ve ever imagined. He cared for her more than anyone else she knew—he still flinched every time she got hurt during a footie match—but he knew better than to coddle her. Instead, he’d help her stand, brush the dirt off of her shirt, and cover her back for the rest of the game.

She loved him, and it scared her.

Arya adored her family, more than anything else, but they didn’t really know her as a person. They attended her fencing and footie matches, but they didn’t know her favorite subject in school was history. They knew she had high marks in her courses, but didn’t know how hard she worked for her grades.

Gendry was the one who knew everything about her. He sat with her on the sidelines sometimes, going over flashcards with her and softly correcting her when she got the answers wrong. He allowed her to prattle and rant about fencing and the girls on her team, and never made her feel unwelcome.

He knew all of her favorite bands and her favorite movies. He knew how she liked her pizza and her burgers, and he didn’t even make fun of her for ordering just plain chocolate ice cream at the diners they went to. But despite all of that, he didn’t know her insecurities, her fears, or her dreams.

She had always held him at a safe distance, letting him get close enough to get a taste of who she truly was without ever having to completely expose herself. The idea of him _knowing_ her scared her more than she would like to admit, so she protected herself by never letting him truly _see_ her.

Because here, listening to him snicker and laugh at her, made her feel like garbage. Gendry walked alongside her, ignorant to her inner turmoil, and laughed some more. “Such a lady, Arya.”

“Shut up.” She said, and she was proud of herself for not sounding as hurt as she felt.

“What did your mum think when she saw you?” He asked her, his chuckling finally subsiding.

She rolled her eyes. “She wasn’t surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised.” Gendry laughed again at her words, tossing his head back. She swallowed back the bite of hurt that cut through her, mentally chiding herself for letting some stupid _boy_ make her feel less than she was worth. 

They made it back to the park a few minutes later, the other boys calling to them when they appeared at the tree line. They rejoined the game with ease and Arya was only slightly bitter that Sandor and Lommy had apparently scored in their absence. Arya joined Beric, Ned, Anguy, and Lem, ready to start the game.

She was able to get all of her anger towards Gendry out during their scrimmage, managing to blindside him and shove him straight into a puddle. She smirked at him as she darted by him, scoring a goal on Thoros not even a minute later. Gendry grumbled as he pushed to his feet, but still seemed unaware that it had been intentional.

She ended up tormenting him the whole game—tripping him whenever he went by her, unnecessarily throwing elbows into his gut, and making his life a living hell. After the game was over, Arya realized she might have taken things a bit _too_ far, especially when she saw her messages from Gendry later that night.

She’d left the park without even stopping to say goodbye after the match ended, pretending not to hear when Gendry had yelled her name when he realized she was already at the tree line. She had walked home at a brisk pace, taken a shower, eaten dinner with her family, and tucked in for the night when her phone lit up.

**From Gendry at 21:50 –**

_Is everything alright?_

Arya nibbled on her lip and debated on ignoring his message. Truthfully, she wasn’t really upset with him anymore. She felt silly for being troubled over something so childish, but she couldn’t find it in herself to admit that to him. She typed her reply back to him, still biting at her lips.

**To Gendry at 21:51 –**

_Yes, why wouldn’t it be?_

**From Gendry at 21:51 –**

_You seemed off earlier._

**From Gendry at 21:52 –**

_You didn’t even say goodbye._

She stared down at his message and shame filled her. It hadn’t even been a conscious decision—the boys had called an end to the game and Arya had just grabbed her things and left. When Gendry had called out to her, she had just kept walking, not really wanting to have to face him, lest he realize that she wasn’t as strong as she wanted everyone to think.

**To Gendry at 21:55 –**

_Sorry, I guess I just had a lot on my mind._

**From Gendry at 21:55 –**

_Do you want to talk about it?_

**To Gendry at 21:56 –**

_It’s nothing, don’t worry about it._

**From Gendry at 21:57 –**

_Alright, if you’re sure…_

**To Gendry at 21:58 –**

_I am._

**From Gendry at 21:58 –**

_Okay._

She sighed and put her phone down, figuring that would be the end of the conversation. On the off chance that something _was_ going on with Arya, Gendry had the annoying ability to always pick up on it. He’d tried to get her to open up pretty early on in their friendship, but after being shut down so many times, he’d accepted her standoffish nature.

She blinked in surprise when another message buzzed on her phone.

**From Gendry at 22:00 –**

_I just_

**From Gendry at 22:00 –**

_Are we okay?_

**To Gendry at 22:01 –**

_What do you mean?_

When Gendry didn’t immediately reply, Arya worried at her lip some more. She sat, her phone clutched in her hand for a few minutes, before she forced herself to take a deep breath and relax. When Gendry finally messaged back a few minutes later, she fought back the urge to instantly check it.

**From Gendry at 22:07 –**

_You seemed off with me earlier. I don’t know how to explain it, but things felt wrong. I just wanted to make sure you and I were okay._

**To Gendry at 22:09 –**

_We’re fine, Gendry. I promise._

**From Gendry at 22:10 –**

_You’re my best friend, Arya, and if I’ve done something to make you unhappy, please just tell me._

She could feel his concern through his message. Another wave of shame hit Arya—Gendry was her best friend and she’d treated him like shit earlier because _she_ felt a little insecure, and that wasn’t fair to him—so she typed back her response to him quickly, eager to make amends with him.

**To Gendry at 22:11 –**

_I’m sorry for being rude earlier, I was in a weird headspace. It wasn’t my intention at all and I regret leaving without saying goodbye to everyone. I promise you that you and I are perfectly fine._

**From Gendry at 22:12 –**

_You swear it?_

**To Gendry at 22:13 –**

_By the old gods, and the new._

AGE SIXTEEN:

The first time Arya had gone to Gendry’s apartment with him, she’d been a nervous wreck. Of course, outwardly, her anxiousness hadn’t shown at all, but internally, her stomach had been doing somersaults and her hands had trembled. Now, she found herself occupying the small space nearly every day.

At some point, reality had set in on her band of mis-fit boys. Sandor and Beric now worked full time and didn’t have enough free time to spend at the fields anymore. Anguy, Thoros, and Lem all went off to college in the Riverlands and though they weren’t too far away, the commute was hell.

They had disbanded their little group, The Brotherhood, as Beric had drunkenly called it, after a final round of footie and Arya was surprised at how sad it made her. They gave the boys a going-away party at the Godswood, the old, local bar, and Sandor bought everyone a shot, Arya included, despite her not even being sixteen yet.

After that, her afternoons suddenly got very boring. It had only lasted two days though, since Gendry was never one to leave something alone, and he texted her to meet him at an ice-cream parlor not too far from her school. She walked the three miles there and met up with him, relieved that he’d reached out first.

He had a modest apartment—it wasn’t the biggest one she’d ever seen, but it was plenty of room for one person. He had a full living room, kitchen, and a quasi-dining room, as well as a full bedroom and bathroom. He didn’t have much in his flat, but the place still felt homey and lived in, despite the blank, white walls and lack of personal belongings.

According to Gendry, he’d only just moved in within the last year. He had previously lived with his uncle Davos in their small, two-bedroom apartment on the other side of town, but had found that as an adult, he wanted his own space. He had saved up enough money to buy the apartment by working overtime at the auto shop.

In the months that she’d been coming to Gendry’s place, she’d slowly started filling it up with her own things. When she’d first started coming, Arya had been wearing hoodies that somehow always wound up on the dining table or draped over chairs. In turn, she’d started stealing _his_ hoodies instead, leaving hers forgotten at his place.

Gendry’s cabinets now amassed a small collection of tampons, pads, and medicine for when she was on her period. Her tennis shoes and the odd pair of boots were mixed with his on the floor by the door. His fridge was stocked with his food _and_ hers. Even some of her textbooks were neatly piled on his coffee table.

In turn, Gendry began amassing trinkets of his own—a collection of books on medieval history, brightly colored kitchen equipment, and for some reason, a large volume of refrigerator magnets. Combined with Arya’s things, the apartment looked completely different now than it had when she’d first stepped foot inside.

She was shocked at how much of a home it felt like to her.

Her family house had always been her home, the place where she felt comfortable and in her element, but with every passing year, she drew further and further away from her family. Her closest connection had always been with Jon, but he was nineteen and focusing on his college work and the girls he met at parties.

Sansa was prepping to go to university in the upcoming year, though she and Arya had never been super close anyway. Bran had his own group of friends that he hung out with and Rickon was only eleven, so they didn’t have much in common either. And much like Jon, Robb and Theon were too focused on girls to pay attention to her.

Gendry’s apartment became an escape for her. It was the first place she went now after classes and practice, and it was where she longed to be when she was upset or angry. Her family was none the wiser—they didn’t know what she did on the daily anyway, they never had, and they never bothered to ask.

So, when the final bell rang for the day, Arya packed her bag and left school. Robb was the only one with a car and though he could easily come pick her up from classes, she always felt bad for asking. She hopped on the bus and rode it into town, getting off on the stop closest to Gendry’s flat.

It was a little under a mile to his place and she picked his spare key up from under the mat and let herself in. He would be at work for another few hours, but he had told her repeatedly that she was welcome any time. She kicked her shoes off at the door, stripped out of her stuffy clothes, and headed into his room.

She dug around in his closet until she found his King’s Landing rowing hoodie, deep maroon and soft as could be, and slipped it over her petite frame. She turned, getting ready to leave his room, only to smile softly when she saw the framed pictures that he had on his bedside table.

Gendry’s mother had died when he was four, and he didn’t really have any memories of her. The only thing his uncle Davos had been able to give him was a picture of Gendry’s mother and Gendry as a baby. He kept it close to him and she was pretty sure that he also had a copy in his wallet as well.

The other picture was of the Brotherhood’s last footie match, before everyone parted ways. Arya had the picture on her phone and often found herself looking at it when she was upset or sad. She had debated on making it her lock-screen, only to veto the idea at the thought of someone seeing it.

It had taken nearly ten minutes to convince Sandor to agree to be in the photo, but eventually, she and Beric had worn him down. Gendry had been tasked with stopping someone to actually take the photo, and the other boys had tried to come up with ideas for funny positions. In the picture, they all stood side by side, striking ridiculous poses.

Sandor was standing with Beric in a headlock, his bicep flexing as he stuck his tongue out. Hot Pie stood awkwardly next to them, grinning at the camera with both of his thumbs up. Anguy was shot-gunning a beer, Lem and Thoros cheering him on. Ned and Lommy stood chest-to-back in a parody of an awkward prom photo.

In the dead center of the picture, Arya was sitting on Gendry’s shoulders, her fingers tangled in his hair as she mussed it up. She was beaming at the camera, looking happier than she’d ever seen herself. Gendry was staring up at her, his head tilted slightly back, and a soft, happy smile on his face.

She still remembered the way it had felt to trust him into lifting her. She knew he was strong, but the last time she’d been on anyone’s shoulders was as a five year old. He had hefted her with ease, letting her wiggle around until she was comfortable, before they got back into formation for the photo.

His hands at been hot where they wrapped around her knees, holding her steadily in place. She hadn’t been expecting him to reach up and pick her up off his shoulders with ease either, his hands spanning across her waist as he pulled her down. She had kicked Thoros in the shin when he mocked her squeak of surprise.

The photo was one of her favorites and she lightly set the frame back down, still smiling as she left his bedroom. Arya pulled out her notes for the evening and got to work on her homework, letting her phone play quiet music in the background. An hour or two went by before she heard the door open.

Gendry strode in, looking completely unsurprised to see her sitting there. He quirked an eyebrow at her hoodie as he kicked his shoes off. She shrugged. “How was work?”

“It was work.” He told her, tossing his keys into the bowl by the door. He flopped onto the couch next to her, peering over her shoulder. “What are you working on?”

“Geography,” She shifted the page so he could see. “I’m nearly done.”

“’Course you are,” He grinned. “Smarty pants.”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“How was school today?”

“It was fine, _dad_.” She said, not looking up from where she was writing.

“Well _excuse me_ , milady.” Gendry mocked, though both of them knew that he didn’t mean it.

“Actually…” Arya thought for a moment. She closed her book and looked over at him, grinning. He instantly swallowed. “My day wasn’t that great. But do you know what would make it better?”

Gendry’s eyes narrowed, and he hesitantly asked, “What?”

“Starbucks.”

He immediately shook his head. “Nope.”

“Gendry!” Arya whined.

“Arya!” He mocked back in the same tone. She rolled her eyes at him. “I _just_ got home. You couldn’t have asked me while I was still out?”

“I didn’t know you were on your way home!”

“Arry…”

“Gendry, please?” She pouted at him.

Gendry groaned, tossing his head back. _Got him_. “You? Asking politely? Fine.” He stood up and headed for the door, picking up his car keys as he did so.

“Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” He grumbled. “You owe me one, brat.”

Arya only grinned as he walked out of the flat, quietly shutting the door behind him. Gendry was good to her—perhaps too good. He seemed incapable of saying no to her, and she was just enough of a bad person to use it to her advantage from time to time, though never for anything serious.

The Starbucks wasn’t too far away, and she knew he’d be close if he wasn’t already there, so after a few long minutes, she pulled out her phone and called him on FaceTime. His disgruntled face appeared as he answered the call, his headphones in. “Hello?”

“You there yet?”

He rolled his eyes and looked up, giving her a view of his neck and jawline. “Arya, what the hell? I don’t know what any of this stuff is.”

“It’s a coffee shop, Gendry.” She laughed at his scandalized look.

“What can I get you?” Arya heard the cashier ask.

“Just a second,” Gendry’s eyes dropped back down to her, peering at her through the screen. “Okay, now what was it you wanted?”

“A venti black tea.” She said carefully. She knew, from experience, that if she didn’t tell him exactly what she wanted, he’d bring back the wrong order.

“A venti black tea?” He narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious. “Is that it?”

“Yep.”

The cashier repeated the order for clarity and Gendry nodded. “Hot or iced?”

“Did you hear that?” Gendry asked Arya.

“I’m not deaf.” She rolled her eyes at him, snorting. “And tell her iced, please.”

“Alright,” She heard the cashier say. “Can I have a name for the order?”

“Gendry.” He said smugly. Arya squawked. He grinned down at her, pleased. “You’re not the one paying for it, are you?”

“I—well, I would—!” She started, but he cut her off, smirking.

“Mhm, I didn’t think so.”

“Asshole.” She grumbled under her breath.

She was still scowling at him, watching as he moved to the other side of the counter. He glanced down at her. “Should be about ten minutes until I get there, think you can wait that long?”

“If it’s any more than ten minutes, I’m eating all your food.” She threatened. Both of them knew she was serious. “Don’t be late.”

“Yes, _milady_ ,” He drawled out and she narrowed her eyes at him, annoyed. “I know. Gods, you’re impatient. You’re lucky I like you.” Arya couldn’t help but flush at his words. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Don’t be late!” She warned before ending the call.

She groaned as soon as the call was over, pressing her fingers to her hot cheeks. She knew that Gendry had meant that he liked her as a person, but her traitorous brain whispered that _maybe he meant something else_. She flung her head back against the couch with a sigh, eerily reminiscent of the way Gendry had earlier, and shut her eyes.

Gendry was handsome, he always had been. He had pale eyes and dark hair and was muscular in the way that athletes and hard laborers were. He was also a kind man, too kind for the things he grew up with, but was never afraid to stand up for himself. There was a fire in him kindred to the one in Arya.

Arya had never had a boyfriend—had never _wanted_ to have a boyfriend—but if she did have one, she’d like it to be Gendry. Of course, she would never, _ever,_ say that to him. Their friendship meant too much to her and she would never allow it to crumble because of something as stupid as a crush.

She laid on the couch in turmoil for a few more minutes before she forced herself up. Gendry still had three minutes before he was due home, but she was gonna get an early start on her threats. She dug around in his kitchen, pulling his bag of Reese’s Pieces off of the top of the refrigerator.

She knew he kept them there just for her, and the thought made her heart beat just a little bit faster. She sat back on the couch and hesitantly started working again. The door burst open a few minutes later, Gendry standing in the doorway with her drink in his hand. She grinned at him and popped another handful of candy in her mouth.

“You’re two minutes late.”

Gendry rolled his eyes and closed the door, kicking off his shoes. He wandered over to the couch and sat back down beside her, passing her the drink. “I bet you started early anyway.”

“Maybe,” She took a long sip, staring at him. “You’ll never know.” He chuckled at that and relaxed back against the couch. They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment or two, Arya stealing glances at him every few seconds. Finally, she said, “Thank you, by the way.”

He rolled his head to look at her with a small smile, his eyes curious. “You’re welcome.”

“You didn’t actually have to go out.” She continued, unable to stop herself.

His smile widened a fraction. “I know.” His hand lifted off of the back of the couch and lightly tousled her hair. “I know I grumble, but you and I both know that I don’t mind.”

“I know.” She said quietly.

Gendry kept looking at her, a question in his blue eyes, but he never asked it. Instead, he asked, “What do you want to do for dinner?”

“I won’t ask you to go back out again,” She said, grinning when he laughed. “So maybe order something in?”

“What are you in the mood for?” He asked her.

“Chinese?”

“Works for me.” He hefted himself up off of the couch and wandered into the kitchen to retrieve the takeout menu.

He ambled back into the living room, the menu in hand. He pulled his phone out and started dialing, so she said, “I’ll have the—”

“I know what you’re getting.” He waved her off, lifting the phone. She snapped her mouth closed, listening as he made the order. A tiny part of her was surprised that he ordered her exactly what she wanted. She chose not to linger on it any more, forcing herself to go back to her homework instead.

She eventually finished her work and packed it all back up. When the food came, she and Gendry had just started a new television show and were debating on whether they would survive against White Walkers in real life. They ate and watched the show together, making snide comments to each other the whole time.

It was the best night she’d had in a long time.

AGE SEVENTEEN:

Arya didn’t like to think about her period—it happened when it did, and then she stopped dwelling on it and got back to her life. Unfortunately, sometimes she forgot it was coming and it surprised her. This was one of those times, where she was innocently going to the bathroom—only to see red.

She sighed and reached for a tampon, only to find the box she and Sansa shared with two measly tampons left. She grumbled under her breath, finishing up in the bathroom and heading towards Robb’s bedroom. Halfway down the hallway, Robb’s door swung open and Theon backed out of the room, laughing.

Theon was too busy sniggering to notice her, still half in the shadows of the hallway. Arya frowned at his retreating back, heading towards Robb’s room and slowly pushing the door open slightly. Her eldest sibling was curled up on his bed, face red and nose running. He looked absolutely pitiful.

He turned when the door opened and light spilled into the room from the hallway, his blue eyes ringed by pink skin. Grey Wind’s large figure was curled up on Robb’s dark rug, sound asleep. Robb squinted at her from under his heap of covers. “Arya?”

“You alright?” She kept her voice low, hovering in the doorway.

“’M sick,” He mumbled. “Feel like death.”

“Do you need anything?” She asked, eyeing his state.

“Theon’s getting me some meds.” He sniffled, instantly coughing up a storm. He sat up and hacked into his arm, the sound hollow and scratchy. Arya winced for him.

“If you need anything, just shout for me.” Arya told him, patiently waiting for him to finish.

“Thanks Ar.” Robb gave her a weak smile and promptly sneezed all over himself.

“Get some rest, Robb.” Arya backed out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind herself. She crept back to her room and sat on her bed, holding her phone in her hands. She stared at the name on her screen for a long time, debating, before she bit the bullet and called Gendry.

He answered on the second ring, concern filling his voice. “Arya? You okay?”

“Gendry…” She trailed off, unsure of where to start.

“What’s wrong?” She heard something rustle on the other end as he sat up. _He’s in bed_ , her brain supplied unhelpfully.

“I… um…” She coughed and tried again, swallowing back her pride as she spoke quickly. “I need you to run to the store and get me tampons.”

Gendry paused. “Uh… is your brother not home?”

She flushed scarlet, picking at a loose thread on her bedspread. “No, he is, but he’s really sick.” She told him. “You’re the only other person I know who has a car and is awake.”

There was another beat of silence. “I—okay, yeah. I can go. I’ll leave now.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” She breathed in a rush, listening to him moving around in the background. Her cheeks were hot, and she was sure her skin was the color of a tomato. “I’m sorry, I know this is awkward, I thought I had more, but I _don’t_ and—”

“Hey, hey,” Gendry cut her off, his tone gentle. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s fine, I swear. I don’t mind.”

“Thank you.” She said again, meekly.

“I’ll be there soon.” He told her, hanging up.

She flopped back onto her bed, groaning. Nymeria, from where she was curled up on Arya’s bed, lifted her head curiously. She sniffed at Arya’s prone form and Arya sank her fingers into her soft fur. She sat up, absent-mindedly scratching behind Nymeria’s ears as she waited for Gendry to come.

After nearly half an hour of radio silence, she decided to text him.

**To Gendry at 00:50 -**

_What’s your ETA?_

Gendry never answered and she ended up sitting against her headboard, Nymeria curled into her side as she worked on a project for one of her classes. When her phone finally did ring, she almost didn’t answer it, too in the zone to notice it. She eventually picked it up and answered the call, only half paying attention. “Hello?”

“I’m outside.” Gendry told her.

“Oh, thank the Seven.” Arya snapped to attention, hanging up on him. She slid out of bed and slipped into a pair of shoes, flicking the hall light back on as she trotted down the stairs. She left the house silently, her eyes instantly finding Gendry standing on the street, leaning against his car door.

He had a bag in his hand and she watched as his blue eyes flicked up and down her body, pausing for a second too long on her bare legs. She had a pair of pajama shorts on, but the shirt she was wearing— _his_ shirt, actually—was long enough to give the illusion that she wasn’t wearing any pants.

“Is that my shirt?” He cocked his head to the side, frowning.

“What?” Arya glanced down, blinking at the faded design on the front of the shirt. She glanced back up at him, grinning sheepishly at him. “Yeah, it is.”

“I’ve been looking for that, you know.” He raised an eyebrow at her but looked faintly amused. She and Gendry both knew that he loved when she wore his clothes.

“Sorry.” She said unapologetically.

He rolled his eyes and handed her the bag in his hands, suddenly looking a little awkward. “For you, milady.”

“You’re a life saver.” She smiled up at him as she took the bag from him, her cheeks still a little pink. She grinned when she glanced inside, spotting the familiar colors of the boxes. “Hey, these are perfect!”

“Oh good,” He sounded supremely relieved. “Someone recommended those to me because I had _no_ idea what to get you.”

“These are more comfortable,” She said, humming. “My sister and I always get this brand.”

“Well, I’m glad I got the right one, then.” He smiled, pleased.

She returned his smile, happy that he’d gotten lucky. “Thank you, again, Gendry. I know it’s kinda awkward, but I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, Arya.” He told her, blue eyes intense. “I don’t mind at all. Seriously.”

“Still,” She reached into the bag, glancing to see what else was in there. She moved the box of tampons, excited to see that he’d also picked her up some pads and a bright orange bag of Reese Pieces. She held it up. “What’s this?”

Gendry froze and went bright red. “I thought you might… like them.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, which Arya knew was his nervous tick.

“I… I mean, yeah, I do.” She raised an eyebrow at him, questioning.

“I just—well, I don’t want to _assume_ —but whenever you’ve been… _you know_ before, you always like to eat mine when you’re at my apartment, so…” He trailed off, face burning.

“Oh.” Arya stared at him, appalled. She had no idea that he had noticed that. In truth, whenever her time rolled around, she craved the small candies and would demolish a bag as soon as she got her hands on them. They were her favorite sweets and she loved them even more when she was hormonal.

But for Gendry to notice… that meant he’d been paying attention.

He paid attention to her a lot, she realized, as thoughts crashed around in her head. Gendry knew her better than anyone. He knew when she was upset, when she was pissed off, when she was happiest, when she needed peace and quiet. He understood every facet of her personality and loved her for it.

God, he _loved_ her.

Not the type of love she felt for Beric and Sandor, but the type of love her father felt for her mother. The type of love that Sansa had always dreamed of. The type of love that she made fun of in movies and TV. The type of love that she, secretly, had always been a little bit curious about.

The epiphany almost knocked her on her ass. She’d known Gendry for three years now and had been fighting off romantic inklings towards him for almost two of those years. She vaguely wondered if he even knew that he was in love with her and decided that yes, he probably did, but had decided to never mention it the same way she had.

Sometimes, when he thought she wasn’t looking, Gendry would stare at her. She had caught him watching her lips as she spoke, or watching her fingers twiddle with the strings of his hoodie when they sat together, and she had noticed the blush that always spread across his cheeks at the sight of her in his clothes.

He was incredibly protective of her, guiding her through the crowds by holding her hand and pulling her close behind him, or by keeping a hand on the small of her back as he followed her. Creepy men bothered her significantly less with him by her side, partially because of his build, but mainly because of the glaring daggers he’d give approaching men.

He did practically everything she asked him to do, usually begrudgingly, but he always smiled when he saw how happy she was. The handful of times he’d seen her cry, he’d gotten upset _for_ her and nearly cried himself. He also shared in her elation when she was happy and laughed along with her when she giggled.

He openly told her that she was his best friend and wasn’t afraid to admit he loved her. She’d met his uncle Davos, a kindly older man with a silver goatee and thick Northern accent, after being friends for a year or so. Since then, Davos had become like an uncle to her as well, inviting her to dinner and asking after her when he hadn’t seen her in a while.

Slowly, and without realizing it, Arya had invaded Gendry’s life and turned his whole world upside down and he had done the same to her. They were each other’s person and they were the most important people in their lives. She loved him, completely and unconditionally, and he loved her the same.

In front of her, Gendry was still staring at her. He shifted nervously from foot to foot, a flush creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks a vibrant red hue. He tucked his hands in his pocket and mumbled, “If you don’t want them—”

“Shut up, Gendry.” She cut him off, still staring at him.

She made a split second decision and set the bag down on the hood of his car. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and hauled him towards her, dragging him into a heated kiss. He squeaked in surprise and fumbled around until his hands were free to wrap tightly around her waist, tugging her closer.

At some point, she must’ve closed her eyes and he had done the same. It was her first kiss and admittedly, it probably could’ve been executed better. Their lips were off center and his hands kept wandering around her back like he was unsure of where to rest them. Despite all of its flaws, it was still an amazing kiss.

They were both panting when they pulled back, pupils blown wide.

She stared up at him, suddenly nervous. Gendry’s eyes, normally cerulean blue, were nearly black. There was something ferocious on his face and it sent her stomach spinning. She stepped back involuntary and Gendry’s hands immediately tightened, pulling her back to him. She could only gaze up at him.

Gendry was the first one to break the stillness in the air around them. “That was new.” He finally seemed to figure out what to do with his arms, so he wrapped his left arm tight around her waist and let his right hand drift up to her cheek, lightly brushing hair off of her forehead and out of her eyes.

“It was.” She licked her lips shyly, delighted when his eyes immediately dropped to them. “Was it okay?”

“More than okay.” He said, not missing a beat. “You?”

“Yeah.” Her voice was barely audible to her own ears. “I didn’t ruin anything, did I?”

“No,” He shook his head, cupping the side of her face in his palm. She felt herself lean into his hold, his hand warm against her skin. “I’ve liked you for a long time, Arya, but I was fine with being friends if that’s what you wanted.”

She thought for a moment. She had liked the kiss a lot, more than she expected to. However, this was Gendry and she could _not_ lose him. But, at the same time, she was fairly confident that she would never find another man quite like Gendry Waters. The thought of never having tried made her skin go cold and her chest ache. 

She wasn’t sure she’d survive it if, later on down the line, he fell out of love with her and replaced her with someone new. She loved him wholly, but she couldn’t stand next to him as his best-man and watch him pledge himself to another. She couldn’t watch him have a life, a family, children, with someone who wasn’t her.

“And if I wanted something else?” She asked, voice small.

Gendry’s face softened. “I’ll give you anything you want, Arya. You know that.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. She didn’t want him to see the tears welling in her eyes, so she leaned forward and buried her face into his chest. She felt him settle his chin on top of her head. “We can move as slowly or as quickly as you’d like.”

“You’re too good to me.” She said, speaking quietly into the thin fabric of his shirt.

“You deserve the world, Arya Stark.” His fingers softly carded through her hair.

“Gendry.” She said after a beat, determination filling her. She lifted her head and stared up at him. “Kiss me again.”

“As you wish, milady.” He smirked and ducked his head down, lightly brushing his lips against hers. It was a gentler kiss than they’d had before, more controlled and far sweeter. Gendry took the lead this time and she let him, taking the time to mimic his movements and get a feel for it.

She didn’t know how long they kissed, but when they pulled apart a second time, Gendry rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed. He straightened after a moment, his pretty blue eyes cracking open as he gazed down at her, a dopey smile on his lips. His thumb stroked along the side of her cheek as he looked at her.

A thought occurred to her. “What happens now, Gen?”

“What do you want to happen?” He asked her.

“I don’t know.” She paused. “What do _you_ want?”

“I just want you by my side, Arya. I don’t need anything else.” He told her, eyes honest and clear.

“I…” She trailed off, swallowing as she tried one more time. She took a breath and admitted, “I want to be with you.”

“Okay,” He said softly, beaming. “Then you have me.”

“I’m scared, Gendry.” She whispered to him.

One of his eyebrows raised. “Arya Stark, the vicious she-wolf of Winterfell, is scared of something?”

“Shut up.” She smacked at his chest, laughing a little.

“What are you scared of?” He asked her. His tone was sweet and gentle, and normally, she would’ve hated the calming cadence, but at that very moment, with her heart beating out of control against her ribcage, his quiet voice soothed her nerves.

“Losing you.” She told him, watching as understanding flickered across his face. “I can’t lose you, Gen. I can’t. I _won’t._ You’re my best friend.”

“I know. You’re my best friend, too.” He ran his thumb along her cheekbone. “But I think we’ll be okay, Arry.”

“What makes you so sure?” She asked timidly.

“Because I love you and you love me. I’d never, _ever_ hurt you, not that you’d ever let me hurt you anyway.”

Her heart stuttered at his words. They’d said them to each other, many times before, but now, the meaning was different. She breathed out a thin laugh, not quite able to meet his eyes. “You sound quite sure of that.”

“Of what?”

“That I love you.”

He paused and for the first time, she saw a trace of hesitation and fear creeping over his handsome features. “Do you?”

She softened. “Yes. Of course I love you, you idiot.”

The smile that cracked across his face was like the sun shining through the clouds on a gloomy day. “I love you too, Arya. Very much so.”

They both broke into relieved grins. Arya tilted her head down, overwhelmed, and Gendry lightly bumped their foreheads together. She took a few breaths as she tried to control the fluttering of her heart. After a long moment of silence, she glanced up at him and timidly asked, “What happens if we break up or something?”

His eyes turned sad. “I don’t know, Arya. I really don’t. I can’t imagine that ever happening to us.”

“But logically, all relationships have to end one of two ways.” She said, frustrated. “We’ll either stay together forever or we’ll break up. It’s a fifty-fifty chance.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“Yes, it does.” She groaned.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want us to change. I don’t want us to become something we’re not. I don’t want us to try, and fail, and lose everything that we have together.”

Gendry frowned at her. “Arya, regardless of what happens tonight, everything is going to change between us anyway. We might as well embrace it.”

“Why? Why do things have to change?” She asked sadly.

“Because I know that you love me back now, Arry.” Gendry told her, brows furrowed. “That changes everything for me. For a long time, it was just a stupid crush—one I thought I would never be able to pursue, because there wasn’t a chance in hell that you loved me back. But you _do_ love me back and that makes everything different.”

“Gendry…”

“I can make you happy, Arya. I know that I can.”

“You _already_ make me happy.”

“Arya,” He said softly, his tone gentle. “You can’t run from this one, sweetheart.”

“I’m not running.” 

“Yes, you are.” He sighed.

Arya closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against his sternum. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes to see the disappointment resting there. After a beat, she glanced back up at him miserably. “I don’t want to run anymore, Gendry.”

He glanced down at the way they were leaning against each other, not meeting her eyes. After a moment, he finally looked back up and said, “A fifty-fifty chance, you said? It’s game of fate, then.”

“I don’t know what to do, Gendry.” She buried her face back into his chest. “I love you, I truly do, and I want to be with you. But the I can’t stand the idea of losing you.”

Gendry was quiet for a long time before she felt him moving around. He pulled back from her, forcing her to look up at him. In his hands, he held up a coin. His jaw was set in determination as he waved the coin around. “Heads, we date, and tails, we stay best friends. Toss it.”

She stared at him, gobsmacked. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.” He shrugged. “You said it was a fifty-fifty chance. So is tossing this coin.”

“Gendry…”

“What’s the matter, Stark? Scared?” He smirked down at her, a challenge gleaming in his eyes.

She snatched the coin out of his hands immediately. “Fine!” He continued to leer at her and she narrowed her eyes at him. She balanced the coin on the top of her thumb and flipped it straight up in the air. She was starting to tilt her head back to watch the coin, but Gendry grabbed her face in between his hands and kissed her.

She made a noise of surprise but submitted to him easily, getting lost in the feel of his mouth. Distantly, she heard the coin clatter to the ground at their feet. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer, nipping at his bottom lip lightly. He pulled back, breathing hard.

“What was that for?” She asked, staring up at him.

“Well, if you decided that we should stay friends, I wanted one last kiss.” He said, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’m a little selfish.”

A smile tugged at her lips and she felt lighter than she had in years. She peered up at him as understanding dawned on her. “You already knew what my answer was going to be.”

“Yeah,” He admitted, grinning. “I did. But it was still fun.”

“Come here, you ass.” They were both laughing when she pulled him back down, completely melting into him. He craned his neck down, winding his arms back around her waist. They broke apart, but Gendry’s lips trailed over her cheek as he tucked his face into her throat. She wound her arms around his neck and hugged him to her.

On the ground at their feet, the coin was facing heads up.

AGE EIGHTEEN:

It had been a slow, quiet evening for Arya and Gendry, who had curled up on the couch together to have a movie night. Usually, Arya adored spending quality time with Gendry, but tonight, her skin was buzzing with the need to get up and do something. She turned to face Gendry, prodding him in the arm.

“What did you want to do tonight?”

He glanced over at her, tilting his head to the side curiously. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m bored.”

Gendry chuckled. “Well, you could’ve started with that. Is there something that _you_ wanted to do?”

Arya chewed on her lower lip and slowly nodded her head. “There’s this place near my house that I think we should go to.”

Gendry raised an eyebrow. “Okay…?”

“It’s a newer pub not too far from where I live, and I’ve wanted to check it out for a while, but the bartender wouldn’t serve me because he knew I wasn’t eighteen yet. I was thinking we could go.”

Gendry nodded, considering. “Yeah, love, I think that sounds fine.”

“But, uh, I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Maybe we could invite Beric and Sandor?”

Gendry’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead, nearly entering his hairline. “Oh?”

“Listen, I know it’s going to be weird.” Arya sat up immediately, holding her hands out in a placating gesture. “But I actually miss hanging out with them, and I know those two are always down for drinks. And if you tell either of them that I said that, I’ll gut you.”

“Noted.” Gendry smirked. “Do you want to text them, or should I?”

“I’ll do it.” Arya sighed. Gendry stood up off of the couch and paused the movie they were watching, grabbing his shoes and his keys as Arya pulled out her phone and opened a new message thread.

**To Dondarrion, Clegane at 20:49 –**

_There’s a pub in Wintertown called The Wall. Meet us there in 15._

**From Dondarrion at 20:51 –**

_We’ll see you there!_

**From Clegane at 20:52 –**

_Fuck off._

“They’re both coming.” Arya told Gendry with a grin as they headed down to the car.

“Alright then. Lead the way, milady.” Gendry said, starting the car and pulling out of the lot. Arya gave him directions there, staring out the window as they drove through the streets of Wintertown. It was closer to Gendry’s place than it was to hers, but it still put her near enough to her house to make her nervous.

They pulled up the bar, which was a smaller pub in the area, with hardly any lights outside. Gendry glanced at her inquisitively as they strolled up to the front, not judging her choice, but simply curious about it. She ignored his look and headed inside, breathing in the scent of pine and beer.

It wasn’t super crowded, as the pub was still relatively new to the area, but there were still enough patrons in the bar to make it feel cozy. She scanned the faces at the tables and the bar, looking for anyone she might know, and was relieved when she didn’t see anyone she recognized.

She tugged Gendry over to an empty booth along the wall and they hunkered in, pressed against each other. They sat facing the door, waiting for Sandor and Beric to arrive. Gendry glanced around the interior of the bar, taking in the soft lighting and gentle rock music playing quietly over the speakers.

“I like it,” He decided. “It’s homey.”

“I like it, too.” Arya glanced back at the bar, where the large, hunkering mass of a bartender was standing. “I’m going to go grab some drinks. What do you want?”

“I’ll try whatever house brew they have.” He told her. “I’ll wait for Sandor and Beric.”

“Thanks, love.” She headed to the bar and flagged down Hodor, the bartender, who shambled over to her as soon as he saw her.

“Hello little Stark.” He greeted her with a grin.

“Hello, Hodor.” Arya beamed back. Hodor had once been Bran and Arya’s caretaker, back when the two of them were particularly young. Her mother had just fallen pregnant with Rickon and needed help around the house, employing Hodor to work for them for a few years until she was able to take care of them again.

“How have you been?” He asked her, towering over her.

“I’ve been good, Hodor, how about you?”

“I’ve been doing well. How’s Bran?”

“He’s been doing well, as far as I know. He’ll be finishing up school next year, can you believe it?”

Hodor whistled. “No, I can’t. Seems like just yesterday that he was this big.” He held out a massive hand and illustrated the height of a toddler.

“He’s the tallest of us all now.” Arya told him.

“No!”

“Well, alright, Sansa’s still the tallest, but Bran is right behind her. According to him, he’ll be taller than Sansa by next fall.”

“I see you’re still as tiny as ever.” Hodor said, winking.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I can still kick your ass any day of the week.” 

“I don’t doubt that at all.” He chuckled along with her and gestured to her. “What can I get for you tonight, Arya?”

“How’s your house brew?”

He beamed. “It’s my favorite.”

“Excellent,” Arya smiled. “Can I get two pints of your house brew then, please?”

He raised a grey eyebrow. “Can I see your ID?”

“Sure.” She pulled out her wallet and slid him her ID. He read over it a few times before he finally nodded and handed it back.

“Two pints, coming up.” He wandered to the back wall and pulled down two pint glasses. “Here you are.” He handed them back to her with a grin and she saluted him with one, turning and heading back to where Gendry was sitting.

“Thanks.” Gendry took the pint from her as she slid into the booth. He took a long sip, humming under his breath. “It’s good.”

“You sound surprised.” Arya teased, taking a long drink from hers. Gendry rolled his eyes back at her, but he was grinning when he took another gulp. In front of them, the door creaked open, and Sandor’s hulking frame filled the doorway, eyes narrowed as they darted around the pub.

His dark eyes settled on Arya and Gendry at the booth and he stalked into the bar, moving out of the way as Beric appeared behind him, looking delighted as he took in the atmosphere. They made their way over and stood by the edge of the booth. “Evening,” Beric grinned.

“Why’d you bring us to this shithole?” Sandor grumbled.

“Thought you might like a pint.” Arya said, raising a brow delicately.

“The house brew is good. Citrus-y.” Gendry offered from her side, lifting his glass for Sandor to see.

Sandor rolled his eyes but trailed off to the bar, leaving Beric to chuckle in his wake. Beric slid into the booth, settling in to the middle of the seat, across from her and Gendry. “How are you two doing?”

“We’re well, Beric. You?” Gendry asked politely.

“I’m doing fine,” He laughed. “Sandor’s a bit of a grumpy roommate, but what can you do?”

“You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to live with him.” Arya reminded him.

Beric sighed. “I suppose I did.”

Sandor returned from the bar, two pint glasses in his hands, and shoved Beric out of the way as he slid into the booth. The four of them started chatting animatedly for the next hour or so, lost in their own world as the rest of the bar faded out around them. It was only when Gendry slipped his arm over Arya’s shoulder that the mood changed.

Beric had caught it first, raising an eyebrow at Arya in question. She had rolled her eyes back at him, keen to not answer his unasked query, but Sandor cut straight to the point. “You finally grow some balls, then?”

Gendry spluttered. “What?”

“You and the brat.” He waved his hand between her and Gendry, ignoring the glare Arya was shooting him. “You finally grew a pair and asked her out?”

Gendry glanced down at Arya, waiting for her to make the decision. It had come up in their conversations before, whether they should tell the others that they were dating or not. They’d never really settled on an answer and had instead chosen to cross that bridge when they came to it.

Now, standing on the bridge, Arya firmly stated, “Yeah, he did.”

“Wow,” Sandor whistled, leaning back in his seat. He looked impressed. “I thought he’d never do it.”

“We’re happy for you two.” Beric told her, elbowing Sandor in the gut at Gendry’s disgruntled look. “You’re good together.”

“Thanks.” Gendry said shyly. “We haven’t really told a whole lot of people yet though, so if you could…”

“We’ll keep your secret.” Beric winked.

Arya smiled to him in thanks, catching Sandor’s eyes as she shifted. He was eyeing her curiously and there was a question resting in his hard gaze. He seemed to be asking _are you sure about him?_ Without saying a word, Arya dipped her head into a nod. He nodded back, contended, and took a long drag from his beer.

She and Sandor had an unspoken agreement about the way they behaved around each other. In public, they had a brother-sister comradery, with Sandor often picking on her and her nipping back at him. However, privately, on occasion, he showed real concern and care for her, and she did the same for him.

She’d known him for almost four years now and he’d warmed up to her much quicker than either of them were expecting. He found her snark entertaining and enjoyed her no-nonsense attitude. They had more in common than might’ve been originally thought, but they kept up the façade that they were enemies anyway.

But now, sitting in the pub with him and having a pint, Arya realized how much he truly cared. He was crass and rude, sure, but the way he eyed her and Gendry made her pause. He seemed to size Gendry up, eyes flickering between him and her, before he seemed to find what he was looking for and relaxed.

In a way, it almost felt like he had given her his stamp of approval. It wasn’t something she needed, nor was it necessarily something she wanted, but it warmed her nonetheless to know that Sandor was happy for her and Gendry, regardless of whether he ever showed it publicly or not.

The air around her grew thick as she was overwhelmed with gratitude and affection. “I think I’m gonna grab another beer, Gen. Do you want anything?” She asked, suddenly needing space.

“Yeah, just grab me another one of these.” He gestured to the now-empty pint sitting on the table in front of them.

“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.” Arya patted his thigh as she slid out of the booth, heading up to the front of the bar. She found an empty spot and waited patiently for Hodor to make his way down to her. As she was standing there, trying to calm her nerves, someone jostled her from behind, sending her sprawling into the person beside her.

“Are you alright?” The patron at the bar asked, placing a gentle hand on Arya’s upper arm to steady her as Arya got back to her feet.

“Yes, sorry about that.” Arya muttered darkly, glaring at the staggering man who’d knocked her over. “Jackass wasn’t paying attention.”

“He’s been in here for quite some time. Probably should be cut off.”

Now that Arya’s irritation was dissipating, she noticed that the voice speaking to her was feminine. She turned, startled, to find Brienne Tarth staring back at her, concern resting in her kind blue eyes. “You’re Brienne Tarth.” Arya said stupidly.

The woman blinked back at her, surprised. “Yes, I am.”

“I’m a huge fan.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Arya swallowed and shook her head. “That was rude. I’m Arya Stark—I’m a huge footie fan. I’ve been following your career for a long time, even when you were back in high school.”

“Really?” The older woman looked gobsmacked. She was tall, nearly as tall as Sandor, with pale, almost white hair, and fair skin, despite the amount of time she spent outside. Her eyes were a crystalline blue color, and they were brightened even more by the redness of her cheeks. She had thin, pink lips and a long, straight nose.

The newspapers were not kind to Brienne Tarth. They hated her for being a woman in an all-male footie league, but the hated her even more for being one of the best players on the team. They tore apart her looks, made fun of her height, and degraded her as much as they could. Brienne never responded to their criticism and continued scoring goals out of spite.

She wasn’t attractive in the same way that Sansa was, but rather in the way Arya was—her beauty came from a confidence that arose from knowing her own worth, regardless of conventional standards of beauty. She held her chin high and never doubted her own value, despite society sneering down at her for her appearance.

Arya had always looked up to Brienne. Even when the whole world was against her, she was kind and she never let rude remarks affect her playing. As a player, she was highly intelligent and wickedly fast. Where many footie players were small, she was big, and knew how to use it to her advantage.

It was nice for Arya to have a role model, especially one that she resonated with on so many levels. Arya and Brienne both had their heights used against them, both of them weren’t conventionally attractive, and both of them lived in male-dominated worlds. But Brienne had made it work for her and Arya would be damned if she didn’t too. 

“You’re only a year or so behind my brothers.” Arya nodded to Brienne’s question. “They play for Winterfell University.”

“Would I know them?”

“Robb Stark?” Arya offered.

Brienne’s blue eyes lit up with recognition. “The Young Wolf. Yes, I do know him. Excellent player, great playmaking abilities. What’s that chant they have when he scores?”

“ _King in the North_.” Arya told her proudly.

Brienne snapped her fingers. “That’s the one.”

“He’s quite pleased with that one, the idiot.” Arya snickered. “Our mum loves it.”

“Yes, I’m sure she does.” Brienne agreed.

“I think you’re one of the best players in the league, even if you do play for the Stormlands.” Arya told her. “I wish we had you on our team. I’m excited to watch where your career takes you after uni.”

Brienne’s face fell and she stared down at her drink darkly. “I’m afraid there’s not much of a career to follow.” She said bitterly.

“How do you mean?” Arya frowned. “You’re one of the best footie players I’ve ever seen.”

Brienne smiled, thin and sad. Her blue eyes were downcast and there was a morose mood floating around her. “Thank you, Ms. Stark, but unfortunately, the Westerosi National League isn’t quite ready to have a female footie player in their midst.”

“Are you joking me?” Arya plopped down into the seat besides Brienne, scowling, her beers long forgotten. “You could kick Jaime Lannister’s golden ass any day. And it’s Arya, by the way. Ms. Stark is my mother.”

Brienne’s lips twitched into another small smile, though she looked significantly more pleased this time. “Well, _Arya_ , I appreciate your praise, but I’m not sure I’ll ever make it that far.”

“Why not?”

The blonde sighed. “I spoke to Tywin Lannister about trying out for the league and he just about laughed in my face.”

“Asshole.” Arya grumbled.

“Indeed,” Brienne agreed, frowning. “I know that I’m skilled enough to at least make it to team try outs, but I’m not even being given the chance.”

Normally, Arya would’ve found her words conceited or arrogant, but instead, she found Brienne’s statement to be self-assured. It made her smile, knowing someone as capable and talented as Brienne was still level-headed. “You should talk to Jaime Lannister personally.”

Brienne scoffed. “You think that’ll go any better than it did with Tywin?”

“Maybe not,” Arya shrugged. “But Jaime Lannister never backs down from a challenge, right?”

Brienne paused, pondering. She glanced at Arya out of the side of her eyes, narrowing her gaze slightly in realization. “I see what you’re trying to do.”

“Is it working?”

Brienne grinned, boyishly happy for the first time that evening. “Perhaps.”

Arya smirked. “Good.”

Brienne grinned down at her beer, taking a small sip, before the smile slowly faded from her face. She sighed, turning back to Arya. “I don’t even know how to get started. That’s the issue.”

“Go back down to King’s Landing and ask to speak to Jaime Lannister. He’ll be curious, and he’ll come see what you want. Tell him that you’re skilled and talented and challenge him to a footie game. He won’t back down.”

“You’re right, Arya, but it’s not that simple.” Arya quirked an eyebrow at her. Brienne huffed out a laugh and continued, explaining, “I can’t just march down to the King’s Landing offices and demand to speak to Jaime Lannister.”

“Why not?”

Brienne opened her mouth and then closed it, blinking. “Well…”

“You could do exactly that.” Arya pointed out. “It’s not the most conventional way of doing things, but neither is having a woman play in the National League.”

Brienne studied Arya for a beat, her blue eyes piercing under her short, white-blonde hair. After a long moment, Brienne finally asked, “Has anyone ever told you how clever you are?”

Arya smirked. “Once or twice.”

AGE EIGHTEEN:

When Arya had finally graduated high school, her family had been in the audience to cheer her on. She had walked across the stage, shaken hands with the principal, posed for a photo, and returned to her seat in the span of seventy-three seconds. It was a very anticlimactic end to a very tumultuous era.

When she had begun looking at colleges, Gendry’s face had kept infiltrating her thoughts. She had briefly considered going to school in Braavos—Syrio and Jaqen had both promised to get her in with their connections with the staff there—but had ultimately decided to stay local to remain with her family and Gendry.

Gendry hadn’t been pleased when she told him her reasoning, but she had just rolled her eyes and reminded him that it was her choice anyway. He couldn’t be mad for too long though, since it meant that Arya would be around for another four years and their relationship wouldn’t suffer any from distance.

Her first semester had started with a bang, with six classes, a grueling curriculum, and a desk full of textbooks. Arya had declared her major during the second week of classes—professing to her advisor that she intended to pursue a courageous double major in geography and Westerosi history. 

She decided to live at home with her family to save them money on dorms, even though her housing fee wouldn’t even put a dent in their finances. It was nice to have a familiar home base to come to at the end of the day, even though she spent most of her free time over at Gendry’s place.

They’d been dating for almost a year, but they were no where near ready to live together. Gendry was still working full time at the garage and Arya was now a full-time student. She saw him when she was able to, but most of their time was spent curled up on his couch, watching television and having dinner together.

It was second nature for her to head to his apartment after classes let out, his flat significantly closer to her campus than it was to her house. She walked the twenty minutes to his place, swaying to music as she headed down the street, soft, melodious tunes flowing through her headphones.

When she reached his place and headed inside, she flicked on the lights and kicked her shoes off. The spare-key had unofficially become hers and she tossed it back under the welcome mat on her way inside. She shut the door and checked her phone, surprised to have a message from him.

**From Gendry at 16:48 –**

_Hey love, I’ll be home late tonight. Going to a friend’s game. I’ll bring home Italian?_

She smiled at the message, typing him back as she headed into his room. She stole another one of his sweatshirts and slipped it on over her head, texting him back a moment later as she curled up on the couch.

**To Gendry at 17:15 –**

_Sounds good. See you later, have fun!_

**From Gendry at 17:16 –**

_Love you._

**To Gendry at 17:16 –**

_Love you too._

She set her phone down on the couch and pulled out her laptop and textbooks, hunkering down for the evening. She checked her email, blinking in surprise when she found her inbox empty. She had been awaiting a response for nearly a week and sighed in frustration, opening a new thread.

**To RBolton@winterfell.edu, IPayne@winterfell.edu, MTrant@winterfell.edu:**

**Subject: Project for Mordane’s Class**

**Hello all, I have yet to hear from any of you regarding your intended participation on the upcoming history project. I’ve already stated that I’ll be working on Northern territories and the animal species present in those locations. Per my last email, I asked which sectors of Westeros you wanted to cover in our presentation. Please respond promptly with your chosen areas.**

**Best,**

**Arya Stark**

She groaned as she sent the email, knowing that the likeliness of getting a response was slim to none. Ilyn and Meryn were both seniors who needed the class to finally graduate, but neither seemed particularly interested in showing up to class. Arya almost wished Ramsey had the same mindset.

Ramsey Bolton was a disgusting human being—one who enjoyed staring at women to make them uncomfortable, delighting in the way they flinched away from him. Arya had only spoken to him twice, and that was only because it was mandatory for the class to sit with their partners.

She’d emailed Professor Mordane at least three times and stopped by her office complaining about their lack of participation only to be told the same thing—she was an adult and she needed to work everything out. _You won’t always have people around to help you with your problems, Ms. Stark. Figure it out_ , she had said.

Arya had finished her portion of work over a week ago and had been slowly doing the rest of the project herself. She’d finished the King’s Landing portion fairly easy—Gendry had been more than willing to give her any information she wanted—but she still had to finish the Riverlands and Highgarden.

Arya had toyed with the idea of reaching out to Margaery, Sansa’s best friend, about information on Highgarden, but she hadn’t wanted to bother her. Her mother’s family had originally come from Riverrun, which was in the heart of the Riverlands, but she didn’t want to trouble her mother for help either.

Arya’s research had been boring—the Riverlands and Highgarden didn’t hold her interests the same with the North and King’s Landing did—and she found herself drifting off every time she tried to read about the trade and economic prosperity in Highgarden. She was starting to go stir crazy.

The final project was due in a few days and she’d been putting nearly all of her time and effort into it. The presentation itself wasn’t incredibly hard, but it could be hard to find information with the limited sources that Winterfell University offered. It was also the end of the semester, and Arya still had five other classes to worry about on top of this one.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she realized the words were blurring. Tears slipped down her cheeks without her permission and she sniffled, loudly breaking the silence in the living room. She swiped at her face, annoyed when more tears spilled over her cheekbones and onto her shirt.

She huffed in aggravation, mad at herself for getting this upset. It wasn’t like her to cry, especially not over something like schoolwork. Her academic career had been nearly spotless, and Arya had graduated in the top of her class. The stress of completing six final projects, as well as exams, must’ve been bothering her more than she realized.

She closed her eyes, begging herself to calm down, but couldn’t find her center of reality. She could feel the slick heat of her tears as they dropped onto her shirt, her skin hot and wet under her fingers. She wiped at her face more aggressively this time, standing up from the couch and walking around the room, sucking in deep breaths.

She was dialing Gendry’s number before she was even comprehended it.

His smooth voice instantly calmed her erratic heartbeat as he answered the call. “Hey love, what’s up?” He was smiling—she could tell by the lilt in his words. Someone in the background yelled something unintelligible and she sniffled. Gendry snapped to attention. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

Everything hit her at once and she spoke rapidly into her phone, not pausing to breathe as she explained, “I’m going to fail because these assholes won’t fucking _help me,_ and I’ve already emailed Professor Mordane and _she’s_ being no help and everything’s just falling apart and I’m _crying_ like an _idiot—_ ”

“Sweetheart, slow down.” He cut off her rambling, voice gentle. She could hear the concern and worry in his speech. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“Sorry.” She muttered shyly. She rubbed at her eyes, ignoring that her shirtsleeve came back damp.

“Take a deep breath, love.” He instructed. She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes, listening to his voice. “There you go.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’re out, but I don’t know what to do.” Arya admitted quietly. To her own ears, she sounded much calmer. “My partners for this group project are refusing to do any work. I’m literally doing this whole thing by myself and if we fail this project, we fail the class.”

“Did they say—”

“They didn’t say anything,” Arya cut him off. “They won’t even speak to me. If I fail this class, I have to retake it, and that’ll push back my graduation plans. I’m only a freshman, but I don’t want to start my university career with a shit GPA.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “Seven hells, honey, that’s fucking horrible. Do you want me to come home?”

A stab of guilt hit her. She didn’t want him to have to give up his plans because she was doubting herself. She was probably just being overdramatic about the situation anyway. Maybe Meryn, Ilyn, and Ramsey would prove her wrong—maybe they’d show up to class with their work completed and—

She cut off her own train of thought, shaking her head. She knew it was delusional to think they’d ever help her. They’d never shown an interest in being good students or decent humans before. Gendry’s offer rang in her ears and she swayed from foot to foot as she pondered her suggestion. Finally, she answered him.

“I don’t want to ruin your night.” She said timidly. She cut him off before he could say anything else, admitting, “But I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“Yeah, of course, love, it’s no trouble.” He said, and she could hear the relief in his voice. He hated it when she belittled her feelings, especially when something was bothering her. “I’ll be home in fifteen, okay?”

“Okay,” She said, voice soft. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Gendry hung up the phone and Arya curled up on the couch. She was still crying, though significantly less than she had been before she had spoken to him. When Gendry finally got home, about ten minutes later, she lifted her head to watch him step into the apartment, pausing briefly in the doorway as he looked at her.

He took a few steps into the house and she climbed back a little, letting him sit down next to her. She didn’t even look at him as she climbed over him and curled into his chest. She wound her arms around his stomach and rested her head against his chest, tucking her knees up. Gendry immediately wrapped her arms around her and held her to him.

One of his hands started rubbing up and down her back, spreading a trail of heat down her spine. He pressed a kiss into her hair and she felt him rest his cheek against the top of her head. After a moment, he softly asked, “What do you need?”

She nuzzled into his sweater, grateful. “Talk to me. About anything else. Please.”

“I met these guys today,” He started, his voice a low rumble. “I think you’d like them.”

“You’re the only guy I like.” She reminded him, a half-smile tilting her lips.

She could feel him grin. “I better be.”

“Tell me about the new car you’re working on in the shop.” She prompted, lifting her head back to press a small kiss to his cheek. He turned his head as she pulled back, giving her a sweet kiss that had her melting further into him. She pressed her face into his neck and counted his heartbeats as he spoke.

He talked at her for about twenty minutes before she had relaxed enough to sit back and watch him. He seemed pleased to see her no longer crying and his hand found hers, their fingers twining together as they chatted. She listened intently to his story about Davos nearly losing his fingers in the shop, laughing with him.

She kissed him again after some time, their conversation dying down. When she pulled back from him, he brushed his nose against hers. “How are you doing, love?”

“Much better now,” She pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you. I’m sorry you had to leave and come home early.”

He was shaking his head before she’d even finished speaking. “No, don’t apologize. I’m glad you told me.”

“Thank you.” She said again, lifting her hand to run her fingers through his dark hair.

He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her pulse point. “Of course, darling. Any time.”

“I should get back to work.” She sighed, pulling herself out of his lap. She tucked her legs underneath her and pulled her laptop onto her knees.

“Want some help?”

“Are you sure?” She asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” He slid closer to her again, peering over her shoulder at the screen. “Highgarden and the Riverlands, eh?”

“My mum’s family is from Riverrun, so that’s why I picked it.” She explained. “And Highgarden is known for their economics and their trade routes. I don’t know much about their animal species though, so I’m kind of regretting picking it.”

“Have you thought about asking your mum about Riverrun?” Gendry asked. “I’m sure she’d be able to help you.”

Arya chewed on her lip. “I don’t want to bother her.”

“Arya…” He gave her a look.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She whined.

“When we started dating, I promised you to always tell you the truth and to tell you when you’re being an idiot.” He said poignantly, raising an eyebrow at her. “And you’re being an idiot.”

“Fine, I’ll message her.” She groaned, and Gendry snickered.

“I’ll start looking at Highgarden, then.” He kissed the top of her head as he stood up. He disappeared into his bedroom and Arya pulled out her phone.

**To Mum at 20:47 –**

_Hey mum, are you busy?_

**From Mum at 20:48 –**

_No, love, I’m not. Is everything okay?_

**To Mum at 20:49 –**

_Yes, everything is fine. I’m working on an assignment right now, and I was wondering if I could talk to you about Riverrun? I need to know about the animal species that were present there and the terrain._

**From Mum 20:50 –**

_Of course._

Arya sighed in relief as another chat bubble appeared, her mother sending her messages about the different types of birds and fish she remembered encountering as a child. Gendry glanced over at her with a half-smile. “Crisis averted then?”

“For now,” She shook her head. “I still have to deal with my partners.”

“When is the project due?”

“In a few days.”

“Tell you what,” Gendry shifted so he could look at her head-on. “Finish the project yourself, present it, and tell Mordane that you’re the only person who deserves credit for the project. If she argues with you, take it to the head of the department. Make a ruckus.”

“But is that taking it too far?”

Gendry raised an eyebrow. “Since when have you been worried about going too far?”

She avoided his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Arya, look at me.” She did after a beat, glancing up to meet his eyes. “This is your final project for this class and you’re doing all of the work for it. These other assholes haven’t done anything and if you do nothing, they’re going to get away with it. Do you want that?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Then you know what you have to do.”

She smiled. “Thanks, honey.”

“Always.”

Gendry went back to typing and Arya went back to talking to her mother, taking careful notes to add into her presentation. She and Gendry finished up a little while later, Arya feeling like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. That night, after Gendry dropped her off, she sent an email to the head of her department.

**To STarly@Winterfell.edu:**

**Subject: Final Project Help – Mordane’s Class**

**Dr. Tarly,**

**My name is Arya Stark and I’m a freshman in Professor Mordane’s HIST102 class. I’m a double major in geography and Westerosi history and I’m doing well in my classes. Unfortunately, I’ve found that I’ve been assigned partners for my final project for Professor Mordane’s class and they’ve refused to help me on our project. I’ve completed it and attached it below. I contacted Professor Mordane several times, as well as spoke to her in person a few times, but she basically told me to figure it out for myself. I’m unsure of what to do. I’ve put weeks worth of effort into this project, which is designed for four people, and I feel it’s unfair for my partners to receive passing grades for the assignment that I completed alone. I’m unsure of how to proceed—if there even is a way to proceed. If you could offer me some advice, it would be much appreciated.**

**Best,**

**Arya Stark**

Arya shut her laptop and headed into the bathroom, taking a hot shower to soothe her nerves. She spent some time just standing with her head down, letting the water pour over her shoulders and warm her skin. When she felt sufficiently clean, she climbed out and dried off, getting dressed for bed.

When she left the bathroom, hair still damp, her phone was lighting up. She expected it to be a message from Gendry, but it wasn’t. She slid into bed frowning, shoving Nymeria out of the way. Her heart beat a little harder when she saw that Professor Tarly had responded and his response made her grin.

**To AStark@Winterfell.edu:**

**Subject: RE: Final Project Help – Mordane’s Class**

**Miss Stark,**

**I’m very troubled to hear about this. I will be speaking with Professor Mordane next Monday regarding the matter. I promise we will have this all sorted out.**

**I also took the time to look over your project and I think you’ve done some fine work. If you’re interested in taking some more advanced courses, please stop by my office at any time.**

**Regards,**

**Dr. Samwell Tarly**

**_Head of Westerosi History_ **

**_PhD in Westerosi History from Winterfell University_ **

**PS: Please give your cousin/brother Jon my love. (And tell him to respond to my text message.)**

Arya barked out a laugh and sent Dr. Tarly back a message of sincere thanks. She tucked herself into bed, shutting off her light and stretching out. She opened her messages to Jon, typing him a quick message.

**To Jon at 22:46 –**

_Sam says text him back._

**From Jon at 22:47 –**

_Who?_

**To Jon at 22:47 –**

_Samwell Tarly._

**From Jon at 22:48 –**

_How the fuck do you know Sam?_

**From Jon at 22:50 –**

_Arya?_

**From Jon at 22:55 –**

_You’re such a pain in the ass._

AGE EIGHTEEN:

Nymeria had been standing at the edge of the couch, staring pitifully at her for two minutes and seven seconds before Arya caved and lifted her head. She sighed. “What is it, Nym?” The dog just blinked slowly at her. Arya gave up nine seconds later and groaned, standing up. “Alright, alright, fine.”

Nymeria danced around her legs as Arya made her way to the front door, where Nymeria’s leash was. She clipped the metal band around the silver collar on her neck and grabbed some bags. She opened the door and Nymeria flew out of it, Arya yelping as she was dragged down the porch.

She managed to close the front door and get Nymeria to relax a bit as she started to walk her around the area. Arya didn’t really live in a neighborhood, but their house wasn’t secluded. Instead, it was a small collection of larger houses, owned by Winterfell’s wealthiest and most prestigious families, spaced out on a long street.

Arya had never cared for the people who lived in her area—she found them to be arrogant and rude, looking down on people like Gendry, who worked for his money. She debated on praising Nymeria when she squatted and took a shit in Walder Frey’s driveway, but opted to simply leave the droppings there with a smirk.

Her phone chimed in her pocket and she pulled it out, grinning when she saw the message from Brienne.

**From Brienne Tarth at 14:03 –**

_I met with Jaime Lannister._

**To Brienne Tarth at 14:04 –**

_And?_

**From Brienne Tarth at 14:05 –**

_I’m playing him tomorrow. Closed practice in the King’s Landing arena. Just the two of us. One on one._

**To Brienne Tarth at 14:06 –**

_Nervous?_

**From Brienne Tarth at 14:09 –**

_Not as much as I thought I’d be. I know what I’m capable of, but I’m just hoping it’s enough. I will enjoy knocking him to the ground, though. He’s an arrogant ass, that one._

**To Brienne Tarth at 14:10 –**

_I could’ve told you that._

**To Brienne Tarth at 14:11 –**

_You’ll do amazing, Brienne. Good luck._

**From Brienne Tarth at 14:12 –**

_Thank you, Arya. Truly._

**To Brienne Tarth at 14:13 –**

_I expect tickets to your first match, front row._

**To Brienne Tarth at 14:13 –**

_A signed jersey, too._

**From Brienne Tarth at 14:14 –**

_Duly noted._

Arya chuckled and slipped her phone back into her pocket. She and Brienne had been in regular contact since their first meeting at The Wall a few months back. She’d been encouraging Brienne to pursue her career ever since and was pleased to know that things were finally looking up for her friend.

Arya let Nymeria guide her around the area, sticking close to the road as her dog happily trotted at an easy pace. They had been walking for twenty minutes when she heard the faint sounds of her phone chiming again in her pockets. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen, Gendry’s name flashing at her.

“Aren’t you at work?” She asked as she answered the phone, frowning.

“I am,” He admitted. There was a slight challenge in his voice when he playfully asked, “Do you not want to talk to me?”

“I’m waiting for my other suitors to call.” She replied loftily, grinning.

She could hear him laughing on the other end of the line. “As if you’d ever have any other suitors.”

“Oi!” She squawked, offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gendry laughed, charmed. “You don’t like other people, Arya. You barely even like me. There’s no way you’d have other guys. You’d kill them.”

Arya paused, then said, “Yeah, I guess you got me there.” They both laughed, and she was smiling when she asked, “But what’s up? You don’t usually call when you’re at work.”

“The strangest thing just happened here.” He started excitedly. “You’re never gonna believe this.”

“What happened?” She straightened up, intrigued. 

“So, this guy walks into my shop, right, and—okay, first of all, he looks _exactly_ like you.” Gendry stated, and she could practically feel him waving his hands around as he spoke. “I feel like I should mention that.”

“Oh, really?” Arya smirked. “You saying I look like a man, Waters?”

“Oh, be quiet, you,” He huffed, sounding utterly unsurprised and unimpressed with her. She laughed at his tone and when he started talking again, she could tell he was grinning. “So, _anyway_ , he walks in and I introduce myself to him and he just starts _staring at me_ , like I’ve got three heads or something.”

“Maybe he was high, or something?” She offered.

“I don’t think so.” Gendry said. “He seemed fine when he first came in, but the moment he got a good look at me, he just gaped at me like I was bloody museum exhibit.”

“Oh, no!” Arya laughed.

“And I’m trying to talk to him and he just keep staring at me like he’s seen a ghost.” Gendry continued. “And I finally get this guy to start talking and he asks me what my name is.”

“And?” Arya prompted slowly.

“Arya, I wear a nametag.” He reminds her. “ _And_ I’ve already introduced myself! Then, this guy bloody asks me what my last name is!”

“You’re kidding!” Arya was still laughing.

“No, I’m not!” He was chuckling too, sounding incredulous. “He had the decency to look embarrassed and apologized profusely, but _man_ , I was trying so hard to remain professional.”

“Is he still there?”

“Yeah, he stepped outside for a minute. That’s why I called you.” Gendry paused for a second. “Actually, he’s hanging up now. I’m gonna have to go soon.”

“That’s alright,” Arya told him. A grin came to her face as she slyly stated, “Maybe he just wants you for your hot body.”

“Arya!” He sounded scandalized.

“What?” She was beaming. “That’s what I want you for. He’s probably looking at you and thinking, damn, I should get a piece of that.”

Gendry laughed long and hard at her and Arya’s peals of laughter echoed his. “Sure, yeah, well, that’s just what you think.” Gendry paused again, and a soft sigh left his lips as his laughter died down. “I’ve got to go, love. I’ll see you tonight?”

“You better.” She said softly.

“I love you.” He told her.

“I love you, too.”

“Be good.”

“Am I ever?” She smirked as she hung up the phone. In her head, she could picture him shaking his head at her as he got back to work. She let Nymeria lead her down the road for a while longer before she gently began steering her back towards the house. They got home about thirty minutes later, Nymeria instantly passing out in the living room.

Arya settled back in on the couch, resuming the movie she’d had to pause when Nymeria had needed to go out. Arya had fifteen minutes of silence before the front door opened and someone came inside, sniffling loudly. Arya was on alert immediately, frowning as Sansa’s tall frame came into view.

Sansa was crying, her cheeks wet and her blue eyes ringed with red. She blinked in surprise when she saw Arya sitting on the couch. “Oh. You’re home.”

“I am,” Arya said slowly. “What’s going on?”

Sansa sniffled loudly again, avoiding Arya’s eyes. She was hovering in the doorway to the living room, shifting from foot to foot. “It’s nothing.”

“Sansa.” Arya raised an eyebrow.

Sansa rolled her eyes, snapping, “What do you care, anyway?”

Arya’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

Sansa kicked off her shoes aggressively, scoffing. “Why are you asking if you don’t even care, Arya?”

“What makes you think I don’t care?” Arya asked, offended. She wasn’t particularly close with her sister, but then again, she wasn’t particularly close with anyone in her family. That being said, she still _loved them_ , for Seven’s sake.

“You’re never here.” Sansa waved her hands around the house, sounding frustrated.

Arya gestured to herself on the couch incredulously. “I’m home right now! Besides, what does that have to do with anything? Robb and Jon are never home either—does that mean that _they_ don’t care?”

“They at least make an effort!”

“Really?” Arya asked doubtfully. “ _Robb_ and _Jon_ make an effort?”

“They at least text me every once in a while to check in!”

“You’re an adult, Sansa, you don’t need me to check up on you! You can take care of yourself!”

“No, I don’t, but it would still be nice to hear from my only sister every now and then so I know you’re not dead!” Sansa yelled back.

“Sansa, stop being so dramatic!” Arya stood up from the couch, fed-up with her sister’s accusations. “I’m home every single night and if you wanted to know how I was doing, you could very well text me yourself, you know.”

“Like you would even answer.” Sansa muttered under her breath.

“Of course I would!” Arya snapped. “But you would never know that because you’ve never even bothered to try.”

“Whatever, Arya.”

“You know what?” Arya huffed out a bitter laugh. “ _This_ is why I never hang out here.”

Arya pushed past her sister, heading upstairs, but Sansa’s unbelieving bark of surprise stopped her. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Arya spun around on the second step, finding Sansa a pace behind her, eyes furious. She was no longer crying, but her face was red with anger. Arya gestured in between them. “We can’t even have a normal conversation, Sansa. All I did was ask you what was wrong, and you yelled at me like it was _my_ fault.”

“Well I—”

“No,” Arya held up a hand. “Let me finish. I was trying to be nice, to make sure you were alright, but all you did was throw it back in my face. Jon used to be my best friend, but then he got a girlfriend and forgot I existed. Robb and I don’t talk unless I need him to pick me up something from the store.

“Rickon and I have nothing in common because he’s twelve. You and I clearly don’t talk. The only person in this family that even makes a semblance of an effort with me is Bran, and he and I only talk once every two weeks because we both have lives outside of this house. If I wasn’t around every night, no one would even fucking notice because no one _cares_.”

“That’s not true, Arya.” Sansa said quietly. The fight seemed to have left her as she stared her sister in the eye. They were the same height now, with Sansa on the bottom step and Arya on the next one up. Even with tear tracks on her face and rosy cheeks, Sansa was still beautiful.

Growing up, there had always been a tiny, miniscule part of herself that had envied Sansa. Her older sister was one of the most gorgeous girls in school, with her fiery hair, pale skin, and sapphire eyes. Where she was tall and thin and lovely, Arya was short and wiry and masculine.

Gendry had always assured her that he thought Arya was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but even after a year of being together, she still didn’t quite believe him. When she thought about introducing him to Sansa, her stomach churned and the urge to vomit pressed at her throat.

She could picture exactly how the situation would go: Gendry would realize that Arya wasn’t what he wanted and that he could do better. He’d see Sansa, in all her glory, and realize how ugly and unattractive Arya was. Of course, Sansa would be all too happy to have his attention too, since Gendry was undeniably gorgeous.

Hurt bloomed in her chest and she fought it back, remembering that though it would inevitably happen, they _hadn’t_ met yet. She would hold on to Gendry for as long as she could, but she would let him go when he finally realized that he deserved better than her. Until then, he was hers.

“Whatever, Sansa.” Arya repeated her words back to her. “No one in this house gives a shit what I do, and I like it that way. Sorry for trying to help.” She met her sister’s gaze head on and turned around, stomping up the stairs.

“Arya, wait, I didn’t mean to—!” Sansa called up to her, but Arya wasn’t listening. She headed into her room and shut the door, falling back on her bed. Sansa knocked on the door a moment later and Arya didn’t answer. “Arya, please, just talk to me for a second.”

Ara debated on ignoring Sansa, but decided that it would only make things worse. She took a deep breath to settle herself and stood up. She crept to the door and pulled it open, glaring at her sister. “Are you going to yell at me some more?”

Sansa shook her head sheepishly. “No. I promise.” Arya opened the door wider and stepped back, letting Sansa inside. They sat next to each other on Arya’s bed, neither of them really looking at each other. “Arya,” Sansa started. “I’m really sorry.”

Arya deflated. “It’s alright, Sansa.”

“No, it’s not.” She shook her head, shifting to face Arya. “I was rude to you for no reason and I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Arya assured her, lightly patting her leg. “You were already upset, and I shouldn’t have been arguing with you anyway. I know better.”

“Still, I was a bitch.”

“Just a bit.” Arya offered, the corner of her mouth tilting up into a smile. Sansa thankfully laughed in response. After a beat, Arya asked, “Why were you crying?”

Sansa sighed. “Joffrey.”

“What about him?” Arya frowned.

“I ran into him while I was out with Marg.” Sansa’s eyes were distant as she remembered. “He called us names and he and his friends practically chased us back to our car, screaming at us the whole way. I don’t really know why I was crying—I don’t care what that shit thinks of me.”

“You shouldn’t.” Arya said firmly. “Whatever he said wasn’t true.”

Sansa gave her a sad, half-smile. “You don’t even know what he said.”

“I don’t need to.” Arya shrugged. “Joffrey Lannister is one of the lowest of the low. Nothing that comes out of his mouth is ever worth paying attention to.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Sansa chuckled.

“I’m sorry we fought.” Arya told her after a beat of silence.

“Me too.” Sansa reached up hesitantly and brushed some hair back from Arya’s face. “You know, what you said earlier wasn’t true. We miss you all the time when you’re not here.”

Arya looked away, glancing down at her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Ar.” Sansa told her gently. “You’re an adult and like you said, you’ve got a life outside of us. We wish we saw you more, I’ll admit that, but it’s like you used to say when we were kids—you always come home.”

“I love you guys.” Arya said, her voice quiet. “I just… I need to get away sometimes.”

“We get that. And we love you too.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Sansa patted Arya’s thigh and stood up. “I’ll get out of your hair now, let you get back to… whatever it was you were doing.”

“I’m heading out soon, actually.”

“Will I see you for dinner?” Sansa raised an eyebrow.

Arya smiled sheepishly. “Probably not. But maybe.”

Sansa laughed, but shook her head. “Are you ever going to tell us what you do when you’re out all the time?”

“Maybe one day.” Arya winked. Sansa laughed again and waved goodbye as she headed out of Arya’s bedroom. Arya took the time to take a deep breath before she gathered up her stuff and stuffed it into her backpack. She grabbed her keys and her shoes and headed back downstairs.

Nymeria was still passed out in the living room and Arya shook her head, snorting. She stepped out of the house, heading for the bus station and waiting patiently. She hopped on the bus and sat by the window, watching as Winterfell passed by her. She got off at the stop closest to Gendry’s flat and walked the rest of the way there.

She let herself into his apartment and ended up doing his dishes for him. She ate at his place as much as he did, and she knew she could be messy from time to time. She heard the familiar rumble of his car pulling into the lot some time later and was waiting for him when he finally came in the front door.

He grinned when he saw her, accepting the kiss she gave him hungrily. When they pulled apart, there was something mischievous resting in his eyes. She squawked in protest when he lifted her up over his shoulder and carried her further into the house, tossing her down on the couch.

They chatted for a few hours, Gendry regaling her with tales from the auto shop. His uncle Davos, who Arya had come to love over the year she’d known him, had apparently had to fend off a frisky red-headed woman who had entered the shop and was hell-bent on getting Gendry to sleep with her.

Arya laughed along with Gendry, who blushed through the entire story. He was adamant that nothing had happened, and Arya knew he was telling the truth. Frankly, it annoyed her a little that women still flirted with him so brazenly, but she reminded herself that Gendry was an honest and loyal man.

In turn, Arya told him about Nymeria shitting on Walder Frey’s driveway and the brief fight she’d had with Sansa. Gendry had frowned when she told him, but seemed to relax a bit when Arya mentioned that the fight had been resolved. From there, they kept talking until the sky started getting darker.

“What do you want to do for dinner tonight?” He asked her, glancing at the time on his phone.

Arya chewed her lip. “Actually, I was thinking of having dinner at home tonight.”

Gendry grinned, pleased. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I miss my family.”

“Want me to take you back?”

“Would you mind?”

“For you? Never.” He kissed her cheek and stood up, grabbing his keys. He held a hand out to her and tugged her up off the couch. He threaded their fingers together and they headed down the stairs to his car. Gendry let Arya pick the radio station—something that played gentle rock music—and they drove in comfortable silence.

When he pulled up in front of her house, she squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.”

She leaned over the console to give him a deep kiss. He returned it happily, humming into her lips. She pulled back from him, smiling. “Love you.”

“Love you more.” He pressed his lips to hers once more.

“Goodnight.”

“Have fun with your family!” Gendry called as she climbed out of the car. She rolled her eyes at him and he only grinned back at her. She trotted up the driveway, waving as Gendry pulled away from the house and disappeared down the road. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, kicking her shoes off.

She could hear her family talking loudly in the kitchen, so she headed in that direction. Her family was seated around the dining table, with one empty seat in between Jon and Sansa, and the food her mother had made spread out on the kitchen island. They all turned in surprise when she appeared in the doorway. Arya met Sansa’s eyes.

Her older sister grinned. “Chicken’s on the counter.”

AGE NINETEEN:

Gendry’s shop always got busier at this time of year. With classes ending, students paid less and less attention to _how_ they were driving, instead focusing on _where_ they were driving. The stress of finals and exams and moving out seemed to hit them all at once, and everyone seemed to forget their common sense.

Every time Arya spoke to him, he complained loudly about how _no one knows how to fucking drive anymore, Arya, for Seven’s sake!_ Arya always laughed at his dramatics, but she enjoyed listening to the stories he brought to her. Every new car that came into the shop was another tale he’d entertain her with.

Her personal favorite story that Gendry had told her was one that involved a young woman named Missandei, who had brought her car into the shop a week ago. According to Gendry, she’d been driving through the area, clearly lost, and sneezed in the middle of the route, driving off of the side of the road and into a ditch.

Though, as much as Arya loved to hear about Westeros’ worst drivers, she loathed how much of Gendry’s time it was taking. She had been seeing him less and less recently, which might’ve actually been a blessing in disguise, since she was already done with several of her big projects for the semester.

After the whole fiasco with Professor Mordane, who had gotten an earful from Dr. Tarly— _just Sam, Arya, please. For Seven’s sake, I’m only a year older than your cousin_ —the abashed Professor had passed her with flying colors. She hadn’t directly found out what grade her “partners” had gotten, but she guessed it wasn’t good based on the dirty looks they sent her.

Her second semester had gone _much_ better than the first. Dr. Tarly had hooked her up with some upper level classes, and she was technically a sophomore at this point. It was nice having Sansa around on campus, as her older sister often found her when it was time for lunch. They even occasionally studied together.

She and Sansa were in the same year, despite Arya being younger by nearly a year, but Arya’s advanced grades in high school had placed her in upper level classes for some of her courses. Their schedules didn’t line up perfectly, but they made time for each other at least once a week.

Ever since their fight a few months ago, they’d both been putting in the effort to talk to each other more. Sansa made sure to text Arya once a week, even if they’d seen each other, just to check in. Arya vowed to always respond, no matter how she felt. It had been working for them so far and things had been relatively smooth sailing.

Arya found Sansa sitting in the living room, curled up on the couch and typing furiously on her laptop. Her eyebrows were pinched together, creating a divot in her otherwise smooth forehead. She didn’t seem to notice Arya walk in, so she sat down silently in the loveseat next to her and opened her book.

Sansa, for some reason, had always struggled with school in the way that Arya didn’t. As a child, Arya might’ve attributed this to Sansa’s need and desire to be popular, but as an adult, Sansa was completely different. She’d come into her own a lot as a young woman, and Arya was pleased to say that they got along significantly better now.

Sansa was still a bit prissy every now and again, but she had mellowed out in the same way that Robb eventually did. It wasn’t all about who she knew or what she wore anymore. Instead she focused on who she was and how she was feeling. She was still friends with Margaery, but their relationship had changed too.

Arya still didn’t know Marg all too well, but she knew enough to know that Margaery Tyrell _loved_ Sansa Stark. They were best friends, had been since they were children, but as they grew older, their feelings might’ve changed. Arya didn’t really know how Margaery felt, but if she had to guess, she suspected Margaery might have romantic feelings for her sister.

Sansa, on the other hand, was a little bit harder to read. She’d had men in her life that had done her wrong, and she’d closed off a part of her heart that always had been open to everyone. Arya knew that Sansa was attracted to men but had no idea how she felt about women. Her intuition told her that Sansa might not have figured it out yet.

All in all, it wasn’t really Arya’s business.

Sansa continued to type away next to her, occasionally mumbling words under her breath as she wrote. Arya stole a glance at her screen, watching as words appeared on the document she was typing on. It seemed that she was working on one of her finals, judging by the language and formatting that Arya could make out.

They sat in silence for nearly half an hour before the shrill ringing of Arya’s phone startled them both out of their serene calmness. Arya made sure not to flinch at the sudden blaring of noise, but Sansa screeched and nearly leapt off the couch at the intrusion. “Seven hells!”

Arya couldn’t hold back her laughter. She ignored Sansa’s death glare as she answered the phone, still chuckling. “Hello?”

“How long have you been sitting there?” Sansa asked, eyes narrowed. She was glaring, her cheeks red with fear and embarrassment.

Gendry’s panicked voice sobered her up immediately. “I just met my father.” He told her. “Arya, I just met my fucking _father_. He came into my shop and he said I was his son and I didn’t believe him at first but _fuck_ he looked just like me and—”

“Wait, wait,” Arya could feel her eyes bugging out of her skull. She cut him off, sitting upright in the loveseat and snapping her book closed. “Slow down. Back up. _What_?”

“My father, Arya. I met my father.” He repeated.

“Who’s she talking to?” Robb strolled into the room, flopping down onto the couch next to Sansa. His eyes were on Arya as he spoke, but his quiet voice was directed at the older Stark sister.

“I have no idea.” Sansa shrugged.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Arya felt her eyes go wide, ignoring her siblings. “Your _father—_ what? How do you know?”

“He looked _exactly like me_ , Arya.” Gendry sounded flustered. “He had my eyes and my hair and—and he had a picture of my mother with him.”

“Is everything alright?” Robb asked, leaning forward to Arya.

“Seven fucking hells,” Arya exhaled, waving Robb’s comment away. She pinched the bridge of her nose, turning her attention back to Gendry. “Are you alrigh—”

“I don’t think so.” Gendry cut her off before she was even finished speaking, breathing fast and heavy.

“I’ll be over soon.” She said immediately. “Take a deep breath.” She waited, listening as Gendry drew in a few deep breaths.

“Who is it?” Robb asked impatiently, frowning.

“None of your business.” She snapped back at him. She stood up from the loveseat, already looking for her shoes. She stuffed her feet into her sneakers, preparing to leave.

“What?” Gendry asked, and she could hear the frown in his voice.

“What?” She parroted back at him, confused. After a moment, it clicked. “No, not you. My brother is being nosy.”

“Sorry!” Robb huffed.

“Oh.”

“I’m leaving my house now.” She promised him. “I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Thank you.” He said softly. “I love you so much, Arya.”

Something in her chest twisted painfully at the sound of his voice. He sounded scared and upset, yet sincere in his words. “Yeah, you too, you idiot,” She chided gently, her voice soft. “I’m on my way.”

“I’ll see you in a bit.” He said, hanging up.

Arya hung up the phone, turning to meet her sister’s narrowed gaze. Sansa’s blue eyes were calculating as she stared her down. “Who was that?”

“None of your business.” Arya repeated, rolling her eyes.

“How long are you gonna be out?” Robb asked, eyes tracking Arya as she walked through the house, collecting her jacket and his car keys. “Wait a second—are you taking _my_ car?”

“Yes.” Arya replied, smirking. She headed to the front door, twirling Robb’s keys around her fingers.

“Arya Stark!” Robb leaped off the couch after her, but Arya was already outside. Arya flicked Robb off as she climbed into his car and pulled out of the driveway. She didn’t ever really drive Robb’s car, but she had her license and she didn’t want to make Gendry wait for her to grab the bus.

She worried over him on her ride there, speeding a bit faster than necessary. Gendry’s parents had always been a sore subject with him, since a dead mom and a deadbeat father had left him insecure and untrusting about the people in his life. But with his dad suddenly in the picture, that changed things.

Of all the people who could possibly be his father, Arya had no idea what to picture. She had seen Gendry’s mother in photos, a beautiful, fair-haired woman with pale eyes, so she knew his father must’ve been where he got his height and black hair from. Even still, she couldn’t imagine him having anyone but Davos as a father figure.

She pulled into his complex, parking next to his car and hopping out. She trotted up the stairs and pushed the door open to his apartment. He jumped about a foot in the air when she came in and shut the door, blue eyes finding her immediately. He was sprawled out on the couch, looking vaguely dazed.

“Hey,” She greeted, kicking her shoes off. She made her way to him, sliding down onto the couch next to him gently. She immediately ran her fingers over his arms and he relaxed at her touch. “How are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” He told her. “I feel weird.”

“Was it bad?” She asked, lightly running her fingers through his hair.

He paused for a moment, lost in thought. “I don’t think so. He wasn’t what I expected, but he was making an effort, at least. He gave me this.” He pulled the photo out of his pocket and passed it to Arya, who carefully took it between her fingers. His mother’s smiling face stared back up at them.

It was obviously an older photo, one taken well before Gendry was born, based on the quality and clothing. The picture was well-worn and slightly crinkled around the edges, as if it had been in a wallet for some time. Arya traced his mother’s face with her pointer finger. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, she _was_.” Gendry swallowed. Arya’s eyes immediately found Gendry’s and she was saddened to see the pain resting there. She could see his eyes welling up with tears and she immediately reached out for him.

“Sweetheart, come here.” She murmured, and he fell into her chest, sobbing against her neck. Arya ran her fingers through his short hair, lightly rubbing at his scalp and gently soothing him as he started to shake. She held on to him until he stopped trembling, gently shushing him when his cries got too aggressive.

“I’m don’t know why I’m crying.” He croaked into her shirt, voice crackly.

“It’s a lot to take in.” She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He reached for her hand and threaded their fingers together. “I’d be more surprised if you had no reaction at all.”

“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.” He told her. “Do I let him into my life? Do I ignore him?”

“You’re the only person who can answer those questions.” She reminded him. “I wish I could tell you the answer, Gendry—I really do. But this is your decision you make, and no matter what you decide, I’ll stand by you.”

“I know you will.” He leaned up to kiss her cheek. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” She shushed. “You would do it for me in a heartbeat.”

“I don’t think I want to cut him out of my life entirely,” Gendry confessed, and Arya wasn’t surprised. “But I don’t want to rely on him for anything, either. I’ve been on my own since I was four and I can take care of myself. I’m sorry, I know this probably isn’t how you wanted to spend your night.”

“Don’t apologize.” She kissed the top of his head. “How are you feeling now?”

“Tired,” He admitted. “A little embarrassed.”

“Gendry,” She practically sighed his name. “We’ve been dating for two years and we were friends long before. You’ve done much more embarrassing things than cry about your dead mother and your absentee father.”

He choked on a laugh and sat up, meeting her eyes gratefully. She watched his face, looking for any signs of hurt. He must’ve known what she was doing—he was weirdly able to read her like that—because he picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to it. “I’m okay, love,” He reassured her, noticing the way her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”

“I’ve got your back,” She told him solemnly, meaning every word. “Just like you’ve got mine.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She felt heat rise to her cheeks, as it usually did when he got affectionate with her. Even after nearly two years together, he still made her blush like a maiden. She playfully rolled her eyes at him, attempting to lighten the mood. “Probably end up dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Probably.” He grinned back at her and she was relieved to see the tension ease from his broad shoulders. “I should stick close to you then, I guess.”

“Yes, you should.” She nodded, smiling.

“Don’t worry, I intend to.” He leaned forward and gave her a sweet kiss. She knew what he was trying to tell her— _thank you for being here_ —and she squeezed his fingers carefully, resting her forehead against his. He opened his eyes, gently touching the side of her face, smiling. “You’re never getting rid of me.”

Arya smiled. “I guess I can live with that.”

“I’m sorry you had to see all of that.” He whispered quietly.

“Don’t be,” She shook her head immediately. “I’m here for you. You know that.”

“Did I pull you away from anything?”

“Not at all,” She assured him. “I was just reading when you called. Scared the shit out of my sister, by the way.”

“I did?”

Arya nodded, laughing. “She didn’t know I was in the room with her and my phone rang and she about had a heart attack.”

“She’s your only sister, right?” Gendry asked.

Arya nodded again. “Yeah, just me and her.”

“Do you ever wish you had more sisters?”

“Hells no,” Arya shook her head adamantly, Gendry laughing along with her. “Having one is enough, thank you.”

“I guess so.” He chuckled.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence again, just looking at each other, before Arya gently asked. “What about you?”

“Hm?”

“Would you want a sister? Or a brother?”

He sighed. “I suppose it _is_ a possibility now.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Weird.” Gendry’s nose scrunched up. “Especially if he _kept_ the damn kids. Why didn’t he want me? How many kids did he have? Did they look like me? Do they look like _him_? There’s so many questions I have that don’t have answers.”

“Well, you could get answers if you talk to him.” Arya reminded him.

“I know,” He breathed out deeply. “I just don’t know what I’d say to him. I can’t call him dad. Davos is basically my dad. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Maybe it won’t. But that’s alright.” Arya shrugged lightly. “I have a brother who’s not really my brother, but is actually my cousin, but he calls my dad ‘dad’ too. His mother and father, my aunt and uncle, died when he was a baby and he’s lived with us all his life. So, my dad, his uncle, is also his dad.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Gendry nodded. “I just don’t know what he wants from me.”

“Maybe he wants the same thing you do—answers.” Arya toyed with his fingers some more. Gendry squeezed her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “You never know, love. He might not have known you existed.”

Gendry paused. “I… I didn’t think about that.”

“You’re going into this assuming he abandoned you, but what if he didn’t?” She gently rubbed her thumb along the back of his hand. “But maybe he’s in the same boat you are—maybe this was all sprung on him and he’s only just found out that he has a son out there, one that’s a full blown adult, nonetheless.”

“You’re right, I’m not being fair to him.” Gendry nodded determinedly, jaw set grimly. “I’ll meet with him, I’ll talk with him, see what he wants from this.”

“Okay,” Arya kissed his cheek. “I support you.”

He smiled sweetly at her. “You’re the best.”

She winked. “I know.”

AGE TWENTY:

Gendry’s flat was always the perfect temperature when she got there. It was never too hot, nor too cold. In the summer, the air conditioning blasted a cool breeze through the rooms. In the winter, the heating unit sent warm air drafting down the hallways. And now, in the autumn, the house was nice and comfortable.

She had taken up her usual residence in his home—curled up on the couch, one of his sweatshirts loosely hanging off her wiry frame. She had a pair of shorts on and bare feet, her toes tucked under a blanket that had somehow migrated from Arya’s bedroom to Gendry’s living room.

Arya had been relaxing in the flat for a few hours now, enjoying the quiet of his place. Her sophomore year had started with a dull whimper and ended with a bang. It was entirely uneventful—she had passed her classes with hardly any effort and was quickly gaining traction and attention in her department.

She was starting her junior year at Winterfell University and considered herself to be friends with the chair head, Sam. When she’d first emailed Sam as a freshman, she’d been polite and professional, the way she was with all of her professors. Now, having known him for two years, he was simply Sam.

She knew that he and Jon both preferred it that way, but she still took great joy in watching Jon’s face screw up whenever she mentioned his friend. Her favorite memory of them had been when she and Jon, on a late night supermarket run for ice-cream, had bumped into Sam in the frozen food aisle.

She’d never forget the face Sam and Jon made when she said, “ _So lovely to see you Dr. Tarly. Do we still have a meeting tomorrow morning about the indigenous people in the Northern tribes_?” Jon had grimaced and Sam had looked like he’d sucked on a lemon. He glared at her while she’d laughed gleefully, chuckling as she left the two men to chat.

Sam had helped her find her footing in her department and she’d forever be grateful. In return, she’d tricked him into finally asking Gilly, the admissions receptionist for the University, out on a date. Sam still pretended to be mad about it, but she watched the way he looked at Gilly when she wasn’t looking.

Arya estimated that they’d be getting married within the next two years. Jon had said that it would take Sam longer to gather up the balls to pop the question, but Arya had always been better at reading people than Jon, who still hadn’t realized that his on-and-off again girlfriend, Ygritte, was desperately in love with him.

It was times like that—watching Jon and Ygritte fight over Jon being an idiot and Ygritte not communicating her emotions properly—that she was thankful that she and Gendry were never like that. In her opinion, it had helped that they were friends first, so that when they did start dating, they knew how to take care of each other.

Even now, with nearly three years with Gendry under her belt, she still considered him her best friend. She had more friends than just him—Sandor would never admit it, but he loved her, dammit, she just _knew it_ —but she genuinely enjoyed spending her time with Gendry, and she knew it was the same for him.

When she wasn’t with Gendry or in class, she was either one of two places: annoying Sansa and Bran or tormenting Jon and Robb at home, or knocking back pints with Beric, Hot Pie, and Sandor, who she still kept in contact with. While she had always been friends with them, they all knew it was different now.

She still missed the dynamic they’d had when they first met each other: all of the boys hovering over her like awkward big brother-esque figures and her leading their group. She missed “the brotherhood” that they’d had on the footie fields, but they’d started playing scrimmages again in the summer, when Anguy and the others returned from the Riverlands.

Gendry had been just as excited as she was to play again, and admittedly, they were all a bit rusty. They all still played viciously, maybe even more-so now since Arya was no longer tiny compared to them. Truthfully, she wasn’t much bigger than she’d been, but they felt better knowing that she was an actual adult now and not a child.

But autumn had come, and along with it came the start of a new semester. Anguy and the boys had gone back to the Riverlands, and Arya had started her junior year of University. Gendry was still working full time at the mechanic shop with Davos, and life somehow felt like it was back to normal.

He was working a regular shift today—he’d had a horrendous string of night shifts in the past few weeks that had driven both of them insane with the lack of time to see each other—so Arya was expecting him to be home at any time. She moved off the couch, wandering into the kitchen to start dinner.

While neither she nor Gendry were particularly talented cooks, they did try to eat in at least once a week. For one thing, it saved them both money. Arya’s specialty was pasta dishes, while Gendry made surprisingly good Mexican food, so she put a pot of water on the stove and turned it on, waiting for the water to boil.

As she was propped up on the kitchen counter, her phone started ringing in her pocket. Gendry’s name flashed on the top of her screen and she answered the call easily, a smile coming to her face. “Hi.”

“Hey honey.” He greeted her, his voice coming out slightly distorted, which meant he was more than likely in his car.

“What’s up, love?” She asked. She kicked her feet out against the cabinets lightly, letting them softly thud against the wood.

“I just…” He paused. Arya frowned, waiting for him to finish. “I don’t know. I need you to tell me I’m being an idiot.”

“You’re being an idiot.”

“Thanks.” He said drily.

She chuckled, slightly worried. “What’s going on?”

“I went to the store to pick up treats for Nymeria—”

“Gendry!” Arya whined immediately. “We’ve talked about this! She’s going to get fat if you keep giving her those!”

Gendry had been stopping by the house to feed the dogs when the Stark family was busy. Naturally, her family knew nothing of this, but Arya had been employing him to help her for months now. Gendry had been very hesitant at first since he’d only been inside her house and met the dogs once, even though he’d been in the driveway hundreds of times.

The size of the dogs had made him nervous in the beginning and Arya could understand why. There were six of them, they were huge, and they were affectionate. None of the Stark hounds were afraid to stick their noses in places they shouldn’t be. Gendry had apparently been goosed by Shaggydog on multiple occasions and had learned to always keep an eye on him.

After the first few visits, when the dogs realized that he was bringing them food, they stopped terrorizing him so much and started sucking up to him. Gendry claimed that Nymeria loved him the most, closely followed by Ghost, but Arya had initially refused to believe that her dog could ever be bribed with treats. 

But, at some point, Arya had had to face reality. It was becoming increasingly apparent that Nymeria had put on a few pounds—all of the dogs had, honestly—but she had tried to turn a blind eye to it. Usually Nymeria was able to lie down on Arya with only mild discomfort, but now she was nearly unbearable.

Arya had scolded Gendry for sneaking her treats when she found the bag tucked under the front seat of his car like contraband. He’d been sheepish but refused to stop treating the dogs anyway. It had been an ongoing “argument” that they had, though Arya really didn’t mind all that much.

It made her feel warm to know that the love of her life was just as treasured by her beloved canine companion. She’d seen Gendry and Nymeria interacting together on the few rare occasions that she stopped by the house to check on the pups when the rest of the family was out, Gendry dutifully tagging along.

Gendry had been right when he said the dogs loved him. They followed him everywhere, Nymeria and Ghost always flanking him like large, fluffy shadows. He basked in their adoration, his fingers almost always tangled in their fur. Arya had nearly melted at the sight of him on the floor, Nymeria laying on his chest and Ghost blanketing his legs.

The image alone was enough to spur unwelcome thoughts in her mind: her and Gendry living in a house of their own, with Nymeria and a bunch of pups running around them. Her mind had cut off abruptly when her brain supplied the sounds of children laughing, and she refused to think about it more.

“I love her, and she actually lets me spoil her unlike _someone_ I know.” Gendry said, pulling her from her thoughts. She could tell he was laughing at her.

Arya huffed, pretending to be annoyed with him. “Fine, but when she gets fat, it’s your fault.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Gendry said deliberately. Arya grinned. “I met this woman in the store—”

“She didn’t hit on you, did she?” Arya asked immediately, her eyes narrowing in thought. She still wasn’t over the woman from the shop who’d been adamant about Gendry sleeping with her.

“What? No. Seven hells, Arya, let me finish.” He grumbled. 

“Sorry.” She said, not meaning it at all.

“As I was saying,” He started back up again. “I met this woman in the store and she was really nice. I helped her pick up dog food—she actually uses the same brand you guys do—because she was small and couldn’t really carry it, so I helped her out.”

“Okay…” Arya said warily.

“And when got up to the counter, she paid for my things.”

“And?” Realization slowly dawned on her. She had an idea of where the conversation was going, but let Gendry make his point anyway.

“And… I don’t know!” He groaned. “I know she was just trying to be nice, but it made me feel weird.”

Arya understood at once. Her tone gentled when she spoke next. “Honey, what did I tell you about that?”

“I know, I know,” He sighed. “I just… I still get embarrassed about it.”

Gendry had always been weird with money. It had never necessarily _bothered_ him that she was wealthy, but it had definitely driven a wedge between them a time or two. He never held it against Arya—it wasn’t her fault that she was born into a prosperous family—but he got shy around her regardless.

He had apologized profusely for his apartment the first few times she came over, feeling inadequate compared to the mansion she lived in. She’d shut him up by reminding him that if she didn’t want to do something, she wouldn’t do it, and that included coming to his small apartment to see him.

He had learned to trust her over the years, to realize that she really _did_ love him despite the fact that he and Davos came from practically nothing. She loved him regardless of what his bank balance read and would continue to love him no matter what. It had taken him a while to understand the full gravity of her feelings for him, but he finally had.

Even still, his issues with money had only gotten worse with the sudden reemergence of his father. Gendry had met with him a few times, but didn’t talk about him much, even to her. She got the inkling that he was embarrassed about it, so she never pushed him on the subject. She didn’t even know his father’s name.

Nonetheless, apparently Gendry’s father was loaded, if the checks he sent in the mail were anything to go by. Gendry had nearly vomited when the first check came and had stormed outside to phone his father, yelling about “pity money” for an hour. Arya had patiently waited inside for him to calm down.

Gendry had learned that his father hadn’t known he existed and from what she had heard of his biological dad, he wasn’t a great man. Gendry said that his father _was_ genuinely trying to be there for him, but it was a little awkward given that Gendry was twenty-two and no longer in need of a father figure.

Still, his father sent him monthly checks to help him pay off his car loans and rent, and Gendry suddenly had way more money than he knew what to do with. It made him uncomfortable to look at the surplus money in his account, so he always gave half of the check to Davos as repayment for everything he’d done.

It had been her idea for him to split the money, since Gendry had no idea what to do with it. _Think of it as a way to pay him back for always being there for you,_ she had told him. His eyes had lit up and the next time a check came in the mail, he put the money in his account, and immediately wrote a check for Davos.

Davos had cried the first time they presented him with the money, Gendry promising that all of his future funds would be shared with his real dad. Arya’s eyes had been misty as she watched Davos tug Gendry into a tight hug, her boyfriend’s eyes wet as he cried into Davos’ shirt. The man had caught her eye over Gendry’s head and mouthed _thank you._

He hadn’t meant “thank you for the money” but rather “thank you for taking care of him” instead. Arya had smiled back at him, fighting back happy tears at the sight of the two of them, and winked at Davos. He’d grinned, rubbed at the back of Gendry’s head, and sent his son to do the dishes so he could hug Arya in peace.

Gendry had laughed, tears still in his eyes, as he kissed her cheek and headed into the kitchen. Arya warmly accepted the hug from Davos, rubbing his back when he pressed his lips to the top of her head. Since that night some odd months ago, Gendry had been doing much better with the money situation, but he still had his moments.

“I understand,” She told him softly. “But you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed for. She was probably just grateful that you helped her out and wanted to do something kind for you. She would’ve done it for anyone helping her out.”

“You’re right.” He admitted. There was an audible relief in his voice that made her unclench her muscles. “That was what I needed to hear. Thank you.”

“Of course.” She shifted on the counter. “Are you on your way home?”

“Yeah,” He took a pause. “I should be home in like, five minutes.”

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you then?”

“Yeah,” He sounded better, much more relaxed than he had before. “Thank you, again, Arya.”

She was quiet for a moment, her heart heavy, before she said, “You don’t need to thank me, Gendry. You know I’m here for you.”

“I know you are.” He said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I’ll be home in a few minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

AGE TWENTY ONE (A FEW HOURS AGO):

“You ready for this?” Gendry asked her, running his fingers through her hair.

_No,_ she wanted to say, _I’m not ready at all._ But she couldn’t say that. So instead, she nodded into his chest and quietly said. “I told them you were coming this morning. They’re anxious to meet you.”

Gendry tilted her head up and stole a kiss from her. “It’s going to be alright, Arya, I promise.”

“Okay.” She nodded. She wasn’t sure if she believed him or not. “Let’s do this.”

“After you, love.”

Gendry threaded his fingers through Arya’s and allowed her to drag him through the familiar house. Whenever Gendry had been there in the past, the house had been empty, save for the dogs, and Rickon that first time. But now, as they neared the backyard, they could both hear the infamous Stark family chatting happily.

When Arya led him through the door and onto the deck, every eye turned towards them.

Her stomach was in knots and she could feel bile rising in her throat. She was sure that her hand was clammy where it was clamped around Gendry’s, no doubt squeezing so tightly that she was cutting off the blood flow. Her skin felt like it was buzzing as she tried to calm herself down.

Arya took a deep breath, refusing to look at anyone as she stared at the ground, and waved a hand at him. She bit the bullet and before she could stop herself, blurted, “Guys, this is my boyfriend.”

“Gendry?” Theon’s disbelieving voice called.

Arya’s head snapped up, her face paling. “What?”

“ _Gendry_?” Robb repeated, mouth hanging open as his eyes darted between his sister and the man standing stock still next to her. “You’re dating _Gendry_?”

“You’ve been dating him for _four years_?” Theon’s voice was nearly a screech.

“You’re dating Robert Baratheon’s son?” Her father asked, and Arya whipped her head around to stare at him, her eyes the size of saucers. _This absolutely cannot be happening._

“You’re dating my little sister?” Jon asked, dark eyes staring at Gendry.

“You already know my family?” Arya whirled around to him, confusion and shock pulsing through her as her heart rate skyrocketed.

“I…” Gendry was still at a loss. He blinked a few times and looked back out at the yard. He blinked some more. He seemed to be just as shocked as she was, staring in disbelief. When he managed to find his voice, it was faint and weak. “In my defense, I didn’t know they were your family.”

A bark startled them all, everyone turning to watch as the army of hounds came bounding up the yard. Gendry yelped when they rushed him, staggering and letting go of Arya so he could catch Nymeria, who launched herself at him. She licked at his face as Ghost and Lady pushed at his legs, trying to get his attention.

He greeted all of the dogs, shushing them when they began getting too excited. Shaggydog and Grey Wind were the first to leave him be, when the realized he didn’t have any treats for them like he usually did. Summer and Lady allowed him to pet them a few more times before they wandered back into the yard also.

Ghost and Nymeria stayed behind, jumping up on him. “Easy!” He laughed, shoving Ghost away as Nymeria circled him. “Get going, you two!” He shooed them both away, gently guiding them back towards the yard. Ghost licked Gendry’s hand before taking off, but Nymeria stayed behind, leaning against his leg.

“Will someone _please_ tell me what the fuck is going on?” Arya asked, her voice raising in pitch. Her head was reeling and she felt like she might vomit at any time. Gendry must’ve heard the panic in her voice, because he made his way back over to her, Nymeria hovering next to him like a shadow. 

It all felt like some horrible dream, like she would wake up in her bed at any moment and shakily laugh it all away. But no, this was very real, and she wasn’t asleep. It would seem that finally introducing Gendry to family had been completely redundant, since it seemed that everyone _already knew him_.

“I met him in Starbucks years ago,” Robb started slowly, scratching at his beard. He was staring at Gendry like he’d grown a third head. “He seemed like a nice guy and we were chatting while we waited.”

“Yeah,” Theon added. “And I met him at a drugstore when Robb was dying of the plague. He helped me pick out medicine and I helped him pick out tampons—wait. Those were for _you_ , weren’t they?”

Arya blinked rapidly, weakly stating, “Robb was sick, and he had a car…”

“We saw him at a football game,” Robb started back up, gesturing to himself, Theon, and Jon. “Invited him to come sit with us. We’ve been friends since.”

“I met him in his shop,” Her father said, making the pit in her stomach drop further. “I knew he was Robert’s son the first second I met him.”

“Are you…” Gendry paused on his words, swallowing. “Are you the reason he reached out to me?”

Her dad had the good graces to look abashed as he shyly admitted, “Yes, I was. I called him while you were working and told him. He had no idea you existed.”

“Yeah, he told me.” Gendry said, blinking. “Thank you, by the way. Though I did have a panic attack after I met him.”

“That was the day you cancelled on us, wasn’t it?” Theon asked. “The family emergency?”

As Gendry was nodding, Sansa gasped, pointing at Arya. “You! He called you!”

“Of course he did,” Arya said defensively. She thought she might be suffering from a stroke. “I’m his girlfriend.”

“That was the night you ran out of the house and took Robb’s car!” Sansa continued, looking proud for remembering. Arya was _definitely_ suffering from a stroke.

“He was freaking out,” Arya said, shrinking back into Gendry’s side. Gendry wrapped his arm around her, letting his thumb gently rub at her hip. She was stiff as a board, tense and nervous next to him. “I was worried.”

“Hello, Gendry.” Her mother said, waving a little when the yard went silent once more.

“Ma’am.” Gendry waved back at her with his free hand, smiling sheepishly. Arya knew she would probably pass out at any time.

“Your girlfriend had six dogs, hm?” Catelyn raised an eyebrow at him before she shook her head. “I should’ve known. You even mentioned Robb.”

“Oh, come on!” Sansa whined. The words hit Arya harder than Sansa had probably intended them, and she could feel bile rising in her throat. “Even mum has met him?”

“Don’t feel bad, Sansa. I’ve never met him either.” Bran said, leaning back in his seat to look at Gendry. “I’m Bran, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.” Gendry said politely.

“I ran into him at the store a few months ago,” Her mother said. “He was kind enough to help me carry four bags of dog food out to my car.”

“They weighed more than she did!” Gendry laughed. _The woman who paid for the treats…_

“You look really familiar.” Rickon said, frowning at Gendry.

Gendry nodded his head. “Hello, Rickon. You probably don’t remember me.”

“You’ve met?” Her mother asked, surprised.

“It was years ago,” Gendry nodded. “Arya brought us over to cool off in the summer. We’d been having a footie scrimmage and we were boiling. We came to get water and Rickon was home with the dogs.”

“Wait…” Rickon started slowly. He snapped his fingers after a moment. “You’re the guy who asked about embarrassing stories about Arya!”

“That was me.” Gendry nodded, laughing.

“So, just so we’re clear,” Sansa said, tone dry. “Bran and I are the only ones who’ve never met you?”

“It would seem so.” Gendry smiled apologetically.

Sansa huffed. “That’s not fair. Even the _dogs_ have met you.”

“Well,” Ned said, flipping a burger on the grill. “This has certainly been an interesting turn of events.”

“Indeed, it has.” Catelyn remarked.

“Arya,” Jon called hesitantly. “Are you alright?”

Gendry immediately shifted so he could see her face. She felt him tense up when he caught sight of her. “Arya?”

“I…” Arya trailed off, mouth open. Her words were failing her. It felt like her whole system was shutting down and her fight or flight was kicking in. As far as she was concerned, flight was currently winning the battle. She stared up at Gendry, eyes pleading.

“Why don’t we go inside for a minute?” He offered, bringing his hand up to the small of her back protectively. She nodded, unable to speak, and allowed him to guide her back into the house. She led him into the living room, all but flopping onto the couch as Nymeria trailed after them.

Gendry in front of her, taking her hands in his and peering up at her face. Nymeria laid down next to him on the floor, watching Arya with worried, dark eyes. Arya’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “I…” No more sound came out after that.

“Take a breath, sweetheart.” He told her, his thumb stroking over the back of her hand. “I think you’re a bit overwhelmed right now.”

“A bit?” She asked, incredulous. She was still struggling to breathe, and she was pretty sure she was white as a sheet. Her voice was high pitchy and croaky when she managed to choke her words out. “Try a lot.”

“Okay,” Gendry nodded. “Talk to me.”

“It’s just—I had this whole thing built up in my head about what I was going to say and then we walked out there, and they _knew_ you and they _loved_ you and I just—”

“Breathe,” Gendry reminded her gently, concern filling him. “Arya, love, you gotta breathe.”

Arya drew in a gasping breath, dropping her head so that her hair fell in face. “They already knew you and I feel so fucking stupid because I’ve been putting this off for so long because I was worried, and it was pointless, and I wasted time with you and I could’ve lost you all because I was being _dumb_ —”

“Woah, woah,” Gendry tugged her off the couch and into his arms, cradling her against him. She clung to him, burying her face in his neck. “You were _never_ going to lose me, Arya. I swear it, by the old gods and the new.”

“You would’ve gotten tired of it eventually,” She whispered into his neck. Nymeria whined and stood up, nosing at Arya’s arm. Her fingers shook as she threaded them through her dog’s coarse fur. “You would’ve left.”

“Never.” His hand swept up and down her back, his tone sad.

“Gendry, I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Arya.” He quieted her, kissing the side of her head. “C’mon, sweetheart, take a deep breath.” She took a deep breath and blew it out, the noise sounding shaky to both of their ears.

“I’m such a mess.” Arya laughed wetly, pulling back to stare up at him. He cupped her face and kissed her softly, pulling back just enough to brush her tears off of her cheeks. Arya sniffled.

“You’re my mess.” Gendry said. “But you don’t need to apologize for this, love. The same way you said I didn’t need to apologize for being weird with money, remember?”

“This is different.” Arya started to protest.

“No, it isn’t.” Gendry raised an eyebrow at her. “We both have our insecurities. Mine is money, yours is your family.”

“I just feel so bad.” She whispered, closing her eyes and leaning her head into his hand. “I should’ve brought you over sooner.”

“It’s okay that you didn’t.” He told her. “I love you and I would’ve waited as long as you needed me to.”

“You’re too good to me.” She blinked blearily up at him, his face slightly blurry.

“There’s no such thing.” He kissed her forehead, wrapping his arms around her. She hugged him back tightly, clinging to him. “And for the record, I think it’s safe to say that I love your family and they love me too.”

Arya laughed and pulled back, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, I guess that’s a bonus.” They sat together on the floor for a bit, until Arya’s breathing had evened out. Gendry ended up sitting with his back against the couch, Arya tucked in between his legs. Nymeria had adjusted so that she could lay her massive head down in Arya’s lap, her presence soothing both of them.

“You ready to go back out there?” Gendry asked, grabbing her hand and loosely twining their fingers together after several minutes had passed.

She nodded. “I think so.”

“I love you.” Gendry reminded her.

She looked at him, grateful. She gave him a smile. “I love you, too.”

“C’mon, wolf-girl.” He tugged her upright, pulling her to her feet. Arya rolled her eyes at the nickname but allowed him to lead her to the backyard. Her family’s eyes snapped to them the second they stepped outside, no doubt cataloguing the way Arya was glued to Gendry’s side, tucked under his arm.

They didn’t say anything about her red eyes.

“Burgers are done.” Jon said after a beat, holding up a plate. Nymeria trotted over to Jon, sniffing the air around him before promptly sitting directly in front of him.

Arya grinned, relieved. “I knew you were my favorite for a reason.”

After the initial shock of the night had worn off, Gendry had settled in nicely at the Stark household. Arya was proud to say that her whole family had been incredibly kind and welcoming towards him, though Jon, Robb, and Theon had stared at him like they had never seen him before, but he’d just shrugged awkwardly, and they burst into laughter together.

He ended up getting dragged into a Stark family footie match, the second one of the evening. Arya refused to play on his team, but allowed him to play with Jon, Robb, Theon, and Rickon. Arya, unsurprisingly, carried her team, letting her mother, father, Sansa, and Bran, take more defensive roles.

Gendry quickly found that Arya played dirty, even in a friendly, family competition.

She threw elbows and shoved people aside, her face twisted into a vicious smile. Her brothers played just as dirty, using their height and weight to push her around. Even the more mild-mannered Starks, like her mother, Sansa, and Bran, played with a violent determination that could only be hereditary.

The game was aggressive and rough and so much fun. It was made harder by the dogs interjecting at every turn. They ran alongside them, tripping them up when they suddenly stopped. Gendry even had to shoo Lady and Nymeria away from him when he was chasing Arya, the dogs following him dutifully regardless.

Arya scored the first goal of the game, whizzing one past Theon. Rickon scored next, his long legs giving him the advantage against their mother. Gendry had the third goal, managing to twirl around Arya and blister one into the top corner. Arya scored the next two goals, gloating happily when she nailed Theon in the crotch on “accident.”

They played for over an hour, the game getting more and more brutal as the minutes ticked by. There had been a scare when her father had shoved at Robb and caught him in the nose, nearly giving him a nosebleed. Bran was sporting a cut on his leg, Sansa had mud on her knees, and everyone else was in varying states of disarray.

Gendry had been shoved to the ground by Arya three times already, but the fourth time she came by him, smirk in place, he was ready for her. He caught her elbow that she was aiming at his stomach and _pulled_ , lifting her up off the ground. He slid his arms around her waist and hefted her in the air.

“Gendry!” She shrieked, kicking out as Rickon whizzed by, kicking the ball back up the field to Robb. Gendry set Arya down on the ground, holding her close to him so he could press a kiss to her mouth. She swatted at him half-heartedly, lazing pushing at his chest, but she was grinning when they pulled apart.

When they turned back around, all of the Starks were watching them.

Her mother and father had sweet smiles on their faces, expressions soft. Rickon looked confused, if not a little curious. Sansa was openly grinning, her pretty face lit up joyfully. Bran looked happy, the corners of his mouth canting upwards. Theon, Jon, and Robb all looked vaguely uncomfortable, halfway between grinning and glaring.

Gendry flushed under their gaze.

“What are you lot looking at?” Arya quirked a brow and took off running down the field, grinning devilishly when Rickon yelped and immediately passed the ball to Robb.

Everyone kicked back into gear at that, the moment broken. Arya’s team ended up winning by one goal and she had cheered triumphantly when her mother announced that it was time for presents, signaling the end of the match. Robb pushed at her shoulder as they headed up towards the house. “Oh hush, you cheater.”

“I’m not a cheater,” She crowed. “I’m just better than you.”

“Gendry, come get your girlfriend.” Robb whined, tone teasing.

“She’s your sister.” Gendry reminded him, but he made a move for Arya anyway. He scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder easily, smacking the back of her thigh.

“Gendry, let me down!” She slapped at his back, but she was laughing. He set her down, looking pleased when she swayed closer to him, taking his hand as they walked.

“Are you having a good birthday, love?” He asked her, voice low as they walked back up to the house.

She turned to him, her smile bright. “The best.”

“Good.” He kissed her forehead.

“Gross!” Jon wailed from behind them.

“Get used to it!” Arya called back, still beaming. They all gathered around the Starks massive outdoor table, settling in around Arya, who sat at the head. Her mother started shoving presents in Arya’s direction and she begrudgingly accepted them, tearing off the paper and tossing it into the trash-bag Ned pulled out of nowhere.

Her family’s gifts always made her happy, as they all clearly made an effort to get her something she’d actually like or use. Sansa had given her new boots, Bran had given her a signed copy of her favorite book, and her brothers and Theon had gotten her tickets to see her favorite hockey team.

Jon had gotten her a Direwolves jersey signed by Nymeria Dorne, Arya’s favorite player, to wear to the game. Arya had held the fabric between her fingers, hands shaking as she stared at Jon, wide eyed. She sprung out of her chair and tackled Jon, sending both of them sprawling on the concrete.

“Ouch, Arya.” Jon groaned, Arya still laying on top of him. “You’re not little anymore, you know.”

“Thank you, thank you, _thank you_!” She kissed his face several times. Jon laughed and gave her a tight squeeze before they both climbed back into their seats. Only her parents were left.

“We thought about what to get you for a long time.” Her mother told Arya, pulling an envelope out of thin air. “You’re tricky to shop for.”

“We hope you like it.” Her father added.

Arya cocked her head but accepted the envelope. She opened the seal and pulled out the card inside, reading over it carefully. _Happy twenty-first birthday, Arya. Don’t forget to come home._ She froze when she read the words on the page tucked into the card. “You didn’t.”

“We did.” Ned said.

“What is it?” Sansa asked, craning her neck to try and see.

“Plane tickets to Braavos.” Gendry said, blinking in shock as he read over her shoulder. “Two of them.”

“We weren’t entirely comfortable with Arya going alone.” Her mother explained. “But we figured she could take a friend with her. Or a boyfriend, I guess.” She winked at Gendry.

“I…” Arya trailed off, still staring. “Mum… dad…”

“Take them, Arya.” Her father said, standing up to ruffle his youngest daughter’s hair. “You’ve wanted to go since you were a little girl.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Arya croaked, her voice wobbly.

“Thank you.” Gendry whispered to her helpfully.

“ _Thank you_.” She stood up and tugged her dad into a tight hug. Her mother stood up and they opened their arms for her. She squeezed her parents tightly, sniffling into their shirts. Arya wiped her eyes hastily when she sat back down and cleared her throat, turning to Gendry. “And what do you have for me?”

She was aiming for casual and missed by a mile. Gendry watched her with a small smile on his face until her words seemed to hit him and the smile dropped off his face. He went white. “Oh. Um. Well, I was going to give it to you later, actually.”

“ _Gross!_ ” Jon shouted. Arya flushed scarlet at the implication.

“Gendry!” Robb yelled, making a move to stand up.

“No, not like that!” Gendry flapped his arms, face flaming. Robb narrowed his eyes at him but sat back down slowly. “I just—I didn’t know if this was the time or place.”

“Do you have it with you?” Arya asked, looking over his body as if she’d be able to find it hidden on him somewhere.

Gendry swallowed, sounding nervous. “Yeah.”

“Then give it.” She demanded, holding out a hand.

“Arya, um, are you sure—”

“Yes.”

“But maybe we should—”

“ _Gendry_.”

“Fine.” He leaned around her and reached into his jacket, which was resting lightly on the back of her chair. He pulled the tiny box out and let her see it. Her eyes went wide and she froze. He quirked an eyebrow at her. “You asked for it.”

“Gendry.” Her voice was shaking.

“Arya Stark.” He said, sliding off the chair and down onto one knee. A single tear slid down her cheeks and stained her— _his—_ shirt as she lifted a hand over her mouth. Around the table, the rest of her family gasped in surprise as they realized what was about to happen, everyone standing to watch.

“Oh my _gods_.” Her mother whispered.

“I met you when you were a skinny little shit,” Gendry continued, refusing to look away from Arya’s shocked eyes. “You were aggressive and abrasive, and I loved you from the moment I met you. You were my best friend and the most important person in my world the moment you stormed into my life.

“Over the last seven years, I have gone from being your begrudging acquaintance, to your friend, your _best_ friend, your confidante, and now your boyfriend. I have seen every version of you, and there’s not a single one I don’t love with every fiber of my soul. I have seen you so mad that scream and hit things. I’ve seen you sob until you pass out.

“I’ve seen you so elated with joy that I feel like my whole chest could burst at seeing you so happy. Watching you cry is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and watching you smile is the greatest feeling in the world. I want to be by your side through everything that you do. I want to be there when you graduate.

“I want to be there when you head to Braavos. I want to be there when you get your first big-girl job, your first apartment, your first everything. I just want to be with _you_. I promised you that you’d never get rid of me, and I’m trying to keep my promise to you. So, Arya Stark, the love of my life, will you marry me?”

He popped the box open, displaying the beautiful diamond ring that he’d picked out for her months ago. He’s spent nearly a year agonizing over the design and shape, going to nearly every shop in Westeros until he found the right one. It was a simple ring and the diamond wasn’t too flashy, but it was very clearly an engagement ring.

Arya’s breathing had gone ragged and tears were still streaming down her face. Her eyes finally dropped from his face to the box in his hands, looking at the beautiful ring he’d gotten her. She hiccupped as she tried to catch her breath, eyes snapping back up to his face. She stared at him for a long time, gobsmacked.

Then, she flew out of her chair and threw her arms around him, knocking them both to the ground. Gendry dropped the ring box in his scramble to catch her, smacking his head hard against the pavement the same way Jon had earlier. Arya was still wrapped tightly around him, crying into his neck.

Nymeria trotted over, sniffing at Arya in concern. She pressed her nose into Arya’s hair and Arya gave a wet laugh and flinched when Nymeria licked her ear. Nymeria turned to Gendry, questioning, and he gave her a weak smile that she seemed to understand. She licked his cheek gently before stepping back.

He wrapped one arm around Arya’s waist and cradled the back of her head with his other hand. Gendry gently shifted Arya upwards so she was straddling his lap and he was sitting up. She pulled back and gazed at him as he cupped her face. His thumbs swiped across her cheeks, wiping her tears away. Arya sniffled, leaning into his hands as she stared at him.

“Arya.” He said quietly, smiling a little.

“Hm?” She hummed, reaching up to wrap her fingers loosely around his wrist, holding him in place.

“You… um… you didn’t answer my question.” He reminded her gently.

She blinked, then rolled her eyes and hissed, “ _Yes_ , you idiot!”

Gendry beamed, yanking her towards him and kissing her hard. The Stark family exploded into cheers behind them and Arya could feel Gendry smiling against her mouth. She grinned with him as he let the kiss turn gentle and soft, brushing his nose lightly against hers when he pulled back.

They were both grinning from ear to ear when they sat back, clutching at each other.

They only had a second of peace before her family was on them, Robb and Jon tackling them sideways. Gendry squawked when Jon elbowed him in the crotch and Arya grunted when Robb kneed her in the side. They were all roughly pulled to their feet by Sansa and her father, who immediately dragged Gendry into a hug.

Arya watched as he embraced her family, whispering words of thanks and gratitude when they congratulated him. After they left him, they moved on to her, hugging her so hard she could feel her bones moving. Arya freed herself and picked up the ring box off the ground, holding it in a shaking hand.

When Jon finally released Gendry, she was waiting for him. She held the box out to him and raised her eyebrows at him. “Aren’t you supposed to do this?”

He took the box from her and opened it, taking the ring out and setting the box on the table. He took her hand in his and teasingly said, “Milady,” as he slid the ring onto her fourth finger. She let out a huge breath as she looked down at it, watching the way it glimmered in the light of the setting sun.

“To Gendry and Arya!” Jon called, clapping loudly. The family burst into cheers again, whooping and hollering. Arya couldn’t help but stare up at her fiancé, the love of her life, as her family applauded them. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much and she was sure Gendry’s did too.

He beamed down at her, his cheeks pink with happiness and his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. There was nothing but love and adoration reflecting in his pretty blue gaze as he gazed down at her like she was something precious. She pulled him down to her, basking in the warm glow of the setting sun as she kissed her fiancé.

They both pulled back, the rest of her family fading out as they got lost in each other, gently resting their foreheads against each other. Both of them had closed their eyes at some point, but when Arya’s reopened, Gendry was already watching her, a happy, contented smile on his handsome face.

“Hi.” He said sweetly.

“Hi.” She said back, voice soft.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“We’re getting married.”

“Yeah,” Arya grinned, her cheeks aching. “We are.”

AGE TWENTY ONE (NOW):

“So, I’m still lost as to how all of this happened.” Theon waved a hand between where Arya and Gendry were curled up in the deck chair.

The sun had long since dipped below the skyline and the Stark family was still enjoying the warm weather outside on their patio, the moon gleaming in the sky above their heads. Gendry was sprawled out on one of the longer deck chairs, Arya tucked neatly into his side, her head resting just above his heart.

His arm was protectively curled around her back, his fingers brushing the strip of bare skin that was exposed from her shirt. Her engagement ring caught the moonlight whenever she moved her hand, which had been residing on Gendry’s broad chest, resting just underneath his ribcage.

The rest of her family was spread out around them. Sansa was lounging in the deck chair next to them, her fiery hair spilling over the back of the chair, her knees crossed at the ankle. Her mother and father were still seated at the table, their chairs swiveled around to face the rest of them as they made a semi-circle.

Jon, Robb, and Theon were sitting on the small cobblestone perimeter that lined the patio, Theon laying down with his head on Robb’s thigh. Bran was sitting next to where Jon’s legs were resting, Rickon on his other side. The dogs were spread out among them, laying near their respective owners.

The deck light was on, casting a pale golden glow around the patio area, which was lined with a string of fairy lights that Sansa had insisted on having put up a few years ago. Jon and Robb had pitched a fit when their father made them string the lights up, but none of them had ever bothered to take them down.

So now, surrounded by soft, twinkling fairy lights and glittering stars, Arya sat with the people she loved most in the world: her family, her dog, and the love of her life. It was the best birthday she had ever had, and her heart felt full and warm and loved. She wouldn’t have traded this night away for anything.

“Remember when I used to go to the park all the time? When I was younger?” Arya asked Theon.

“How could we forget?” Robb grumbled, cheeks darkening. Even though he was twenty-four years old, Robb was still bitter about the incident that had occurred ten years prior.

The rest of them snickered as Theon waved a hand, ignoring Robb’s remark. “Yeah, of course. I’ll never forget the screaming match your mum and dad had when they realized no one had a clue where you were.”

“To this day, that’s the only time I’ve ever seen mother and father yell at each other.” Sansa commented.

“It was a stressful night.” Their mother said loftily, smiling sweetly at her husband.

Arya winced apologetically. “Yeah, I’m still sorry about that.”

Her mother waved a hand. “You always were a hard one to tie down. It was bound to happen eventually.”

They all chuckled and Arya carried on with her story. “Well, when I was fourteen, I went out there one day and asked a big, rowdy group of boys if I could join their footie scrimmage.”

“Rowdy is a harsh word.” Gendry mumbled.

“They told me no.” Arya continued like he hadn’t even spoken.

“Oh gods, I remember that!” Bran tossed his head back, laughing. He slapped his knee as he snorted. “You were absolutely livid! You stomped in the house absolutely _covered_ in mud and you sat on the couch just _waiting_ for me to ask you what was wrong!”

“It was so unfair!” Arya agreed, pouting. “ _It’s just not a game for girls._ Can you believe that? What kinda bullshit is that? Completely sexist and utterly humiliating, that’s what it is.”

“Now, hold on just a second, in my defense,” Gendry started when Jon’s disapproving eyes turned in his direction. “I stood up for her and told them to let her play almost immediately.”

“Yes, he did.” Arya confirmed, grinning. “Very sweet of him.”

“She ended up on my team,” Gendry took over, regaling the rest of them with their story. “She won the game for us. Scored a handful of goals and kicked major ass. I’ve never seen so many grown men stunned into silence in my life.”

“We’d expect nothing less.” Sansa smirked. “Arya’s always been good at sports. She’s got a competitive streak like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Oh, I’d believe it,” Gendry muttered darkly. “We were eating dinner one night and she bet me that she could eat more bread rolls than I could, and we just ate and ate and _ate_ until we were both sick. We didn’t eat bread for three months.”

“She was like that a kid, too.” Her mother said, blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Would bet over anything, that one, even if she _couldn’t_ win.”

“Sounds like her.” Gendry grinned.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Arya said pointedly. “Basically, after that, we just kept meeting up for footie matches. We had exchanged phone numbers the first night we met, and at some point, we went from being casual acquaintances to being actual friends.”

“And now we’re getting married.” Gendry added, beaming. She glanced up at him, cheeks warming at the sight of his smile.

“I can’t believe you had a whole other life going on that none of us knew about.” Robb commented lightly. His tone was even, but Arya was perceptive, and she could faintly make out the barest trace of hurt in his words.

Arya wouldn’t meet his eyes. “For a while, I didn’t think much of it. But when things got serious, especially when Gendry and I became closer, I regretted not mentioning him sooner. But then things just kept getting out of hand and it never felt like the time.”

“Why now?” Her father asked, his calm voice floating over to her.

She chewed her lip, pondering her words. “I love him. Very much. For a while now, I’ve known that I was going to marry him.” Gendry’s fingers tightened on her hip and she could feel his heart rate speeding up under her cheek. She didn’t dare look up at him. “We’ve been together nearly four years. It seemed like the time.”

“Things were different back then, too.” Gendry added. “I didn’t really have many people in my life. It was just me and my uncle, really. Then I met Arya and suddenly she was my closest friend.”

“So, you were seventeen when you got together?” Sansa asked her, turning her head to meet her sister’s eyes.

Arya thought back for a moment. “Yeah, that sounds about right. I was about fourteen when we met and we got together a few years after that.”

“Who made the first move?” Sansa waggled her eyebrows.

Gendry groaned when Arya smirked. “I did, of course.”

“In my defense, you were younger than me and—”

She cut Gendry off. “My age had nothing to do with it, you big chicken. You were afraid to make a move, just admit it.”

He pinched her hip and she yelped, swatting at his arm. His chest vibrated as he laughed. “Alright, I was a little nervous. But, I also don’t remember you being exactly forthcoming with your feelings, Arry. I had no idea what was going on in that head of yours.”

“That’s fair, I suppose.” She sighed. “I’m working on that.”

“I know.” Gendry grinned. “You’re doing much better.”

“Thanks.”

“What made you realize that you wanted to be together?” Bran asked, pulling his long legs up to his chest. He was looking at Arya, but his gaze drifted to meet Gendry’s eyes too.

“I realized that he loved me,” Arya said simply. “It’s kinda hard to explain—I knew he loved me, as a friend and a person, but I just suddenly knew that he loved me as _more_ than that, if that makes sense.”

“I always loved her,” Gendry added. “She was brave and strong and she knew how to take care of herself. She was completely unlike anyone I had ever met before. I knew that I always wanted her in my life, regardless of how—I didn’t care if we were just acquaintances or something more—because I just wanted to be around her.”

“But we both got older and things changed.” Arya continued for him. “I wasn’t a kid anymore. He wasn’t a teenager. Suddenly, without realizing it, we were each other’s best friends and we had both grown up. Our dynamic had changed. I mean, we were practically dating the whole year leading up to us _actually_ dating.”

“It’s true.” Gendry shrugged. “We would eat dinner together, watch movies, go for drives, and she was always over at my flat. We must’ve gone on hundreds of dates before we even understood that that was what we were doing. We spent nearly all of our time together and we both got antsy when we spent time apart.”

“I sent him out to get me tampons super late one night—”

“That was the night I met you!” Theon interjected excitedly.

“—and when he brought them to me, he’d gotten me my favorite candy because he knew that I craved them.” Arya said. “It was something so insignificant as candy that ended up making the biggest difference. I realized that he knew all of these tiny things about me because he’d been paying attention because he loved me.”

“That’s very romantic.” Sansa sighed dreamily.

“It is, isn’t it?” Arya mused, turning her head to look up at Gendry, who was already watching her. She met his blue eyes with her steely grey ones, finding nothing but affection and adoration staring back at her. “He’s a good one, this one.”

“Gross.” Jon groaned.

“Sorry mate,” Gendry said unapologetically. “Guess you’re going to have to get used to it now.”

“I know this probably isn’t the time to ask, but I’m going to do it anyway.” Her mother started. “Have you thought about where you’re going to live?”

“My place is a little too small for the both of us, at least in the long run.” Gendry said immediately, surprising Arya, who had blanked at the question. “My father has been sending me money to help me pay off my car loans, and I’ve got plenty saved up to get us a new place when we’re ready.”

“Of course, we won’t expect you to pay for everything, we didn’t mean it that way.” Her father quickly added. “Whenever you two decide on a place, let us know, alright?”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Are you going to move away?” Rickon asked, and there was a sad tone in his voice.

Gendry shifted to look down at Arya again, leaving her to answer the question. She thought for a moment before she shook her head. “Not far, Rickon. I’ll still be in Winterfell. I love it here—all of you are here, my friends are here. As long as that’s fine with Gendry, of course.”

“Absolutely.” Gendry nodded reassuringly. “Davos is here. I can’t leave him.”

“I think the poor man would cry.” Arya laughed.

“Wait. Davos Seaworth?” Jon asked, narrowing his eyes at the two of them.

Gendry blinked. “How’d you—?”

“Good _gods_ ,” Jon placed a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This world is too fucking small.”

“You know Davos?” Arya frowned at Jon.

“Yeah,” Jon nodded, huffing out an incredulous laugh. “I see him at The Wall sometimes, when I’m out with Sam and Tormund. He’s a good guy.”

“He is.” Arya thought for a moment before she slowly asked. “You wouldn’t happen to have met a man named Beric at The Wall, would you? Or a guy called Sandor?”

“Beric sounds familiar, but Sandor, no.” Jon thought back.

“Sandor might also go by Clegane or—”

“—the Hound!” She and Jon said at the same time. They stared at each other for a moment, eyebrows raised, before they fell into laughter. Gendry chuckled along with them, but the rest of the family just looked perplexed.

“I met Beric and Sandor—the Hound is his nickname—the same day I met Gendry,” Arya explained, still laughing. “Beric is always with him. Sometimes he wears an eyepatch?”

“Oh yeah!” Jon snapped his fingers. “Dondarrion, right? Almost blind in one eye?”

“That’s the one.”

“He’s a nice guy. Bit odd, though.”

“That’s Beric for you.” Gendry offered.

“Sandor and Beric are good friends of mine.” Arya told Jon. “Tell them I send my love the next time you see them.”

“I will.” Jon laughed.

“I can’t believe that we’ve all never put it together before,” Robb shook his head. “We’ve had these damn near-misses when it comes to meeting up and somehow, none of us had ever managed to put it together.”

“We didn’t even know Arya had a boyfriend.” Bran reminded him.

“Imagine how I feel,” Gendry muttered. “I knew that Arya had brothers who played footie, but never bothered to ask any of you about who your teammates were because I didn’t want to invade her privacy. When I met Robb for the first time, I remember thinking ‘damn, he looks like Arya’s little brother’ but I never said anything.

“When I met Mr. Stark, I have a very clear memory of telling Arya that I met a man that looked exactly like her. I knew Jon had a little sister that he loved dearly and that Arya had a brother that she adored, but never realized they were talking about each other. I felt like a right moron when I first saw you lot standing out here.”

“Imagine _our_ surprise!” Robb snorted. He waved his arm around their group. “All of us are just trying to enjoy breakfast and keep it a secret that we’re throwing Arya a surprise party and then _all of a sudden_ she reveals that not only does she know about the party, but she has a boyfriend too, who happens to be one of my closest mates!”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I just found out my youngest daughter is dating my oldest friend’s son.” Her father intoned lightly, taking a sip of his drink.

“If you ask me, it seems like fate was determined to have you two together.” Her mother winked.

“You two were destined to meet one way or another.” Sansa agreed, turning her head back to look at them. “If you hadn’t met on the fields, you’d have met through Jon, Robb, and Theon eventually.”

“I still can’t believe it took us all thing long.” Gendry commented. “What a waste of time.”

“I guess we’ll be seeing more of you around the house now?” Jon laughed, and Gendry chuckled along with him.

“I guess so. If Arya’s up for it, anyway. She’s in a very serious relationship with my couch, after all.”

“My couch is comfier, but your couch has molded to the shape of my body.” She remarked, quirking an eyebrow up at him.

The rest of the family laughed at the unimpressed look he gave her, the sounds of their happiness filling the yard. As things quieted down, her mother let out an enormous yawn, immediately covering her mouth with her hand. “Seven hells, sorry about that.”

“It is getting a little late.” Sansa said, checking the time on her phone.

“I should head home soon,” Gendry said quietly. “I have to work in the morning.”

“Damn.” Arya muttered under her breath.

“Davos won’t mind if I call out.” Gendry offered, his hand rubbing up and down her back.

“No,” Arya sighed. “I won’t make you do that. I’m just sad the night is ending.”

“Why don’t you just go back with him?” Sansa asked, frowning. Arya and Gendry blinked at her in surprise. Sansa rolled her eyes. “What? You’re both adults. You’re engaged for Seven’s sake. Spend the night together.”

The rest of the family stared back at her as she looked around. Jon and Robb didn’t seem bothered by the offer, nor did her parents. Arya turned to look at Gendry, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do you mind if I…?”

He snorted. “Of course not.”

“I’ll go get my stuff.” She pressed her lips to his cheek and untangled herself from him. She ignored the groans that Robb and Jon made and headed back inside the house, leaving Gendry to fend for himself. She grabbed a bag and stuffed her sleep clothes into it, making sure to grab her essentials.

Once she had everything packed, she headed back downstairs and back out onto the patio, where the rest of them were cleaning up the yard. Gendry gave her a warm smile when she appeared in the doorway, carrying the trash in his hands to the bin near the door. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just give me a second?” She nodded her head to the rest of her family, who were pretending to not be eavesdropping.

“Of course. I’ll go start the car. Take your time.” Gendry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. He turned back around and addressed her family. “Thank you all for having me tonight. I know that this went a bit different than everyone was planning, but I just wanted to say it was an honor to be welcomed so warmly by all of you.”

“It was wonderful to have you,” Her mother said, smiling happily at him. She came over and opened her arms, pulling Gendry in for a sturdy hug. Arya noticed that her mother’s cerulean eyes were glimmering with unshed tears as she tucked her face into his shoulder. “Welcome to the family, Gendry.”

Bran hovered over their mother’s shoulder awkwardly, waiting for her to pull back. He smiled shyly at Gendry as their mother subtly brushed at her cheeks and wandered back over to the table. “I know we didn’t get to talk much tonight, but it was great to meet you. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

“Me too.” Gendry smiled. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet before.”

“You needn’t be sorry. You make Arya happy, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.” Bran nodded to him and Gendry blushed. “It was good to meet you, Gendry.”

“You too, Bran.”

Bran made his way over to her, smiling. “Happy birthday, Arya. Goodnight to you both.”

“Goodnight, little brother.” Arya tugged Bran into a warm hug, her head resting against his chest. Bran rubbed her back and stepped back, patting his thigh to get Summer’s attention. Summer stood and stretched, following Bran into the house, where they disappeared up to his room for the night.

“Bran was always the articulate one of the family, so I’ll keep it short—we’re glad it’s you, mate.” Jon said, laughing as he clapped Gendry on the back. Ghost hovered behind him, patiently waiting until the two had stepped back so he could lean against Gendry’s legs. Gendry’s hand immediately found his head and he started scratching absentmindedly.

“But if you do hurt my sister, I’ll make sure they never find your body.” Robb said cheerily, gripping Gendry’s other shoulder firmly. Grey Wind skimmed across Gendry’s legs, swerving around Ghost and Robb as he trotted into the house. He licked Arya’s fingers before settling down in the living room to wait for Robb.

“Duly noted.”

Theon snorted, shoving Jon out of the way so he could tug Gendry away from Robb and into his side. Gendry yelped, head tucked into Theon’s armpit as Theon rubbed the top of his head, making Gendry’s black hair stand up at odd angles. “Don’t mind them, Gendry. Welcome to the Stark family!”

“Please ignore them,” Sansa said, sighing as she stepped closer. Lady stood by her side and Sansa’s long fingers absently combed through her pale fur. Theon finally released Gendry, dragging Jon and Robb inside the house. As they passed Arya, they each kissed the top of her head. Sansa fluttered a hand at their retreating figures. “They’re a bunch of idiots, that lot.”

“Believe me, I know.” Gendry chuckled, shuffling awkwardly on the balls of his feet.

“It was good to meet you,” Sansa told him, her voice honest. She gave him a soothing smile. “Though, as Arya’s only sister, you do need my approval before you can actually marry her.”

Arya squawked, affronted. “Sansa!”

Sansa waved Arya off. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.” She winked at Arya, mirth twinkling in the depths of her icy eyes. She turned back to Gendry, face open and happy. “I already have an inkling that we’ll get along swimmingly.”

Gendry looked pleased, a light flush tinting the apples of his cheeks. He ducked his head as he answered her. “Well, I hope I pass your test.” Gendry didn’t seem offended or worried about Sansa’s statement, so Arya forced herself to relax.

Sansa smirked. “I’m sure you will.”

“Don’t scare him off, Sansa.” Arya pleaded.

“Alright, alright, I’m done.” She laughed. She pulled Gendry into a hug and Arya caught a flash of his startled face as his head disappeared behind Sansa’s curtain of flaming hair. She pulled back and held him by the shoulders. “Welcome to the family, Gendry.”

“Thank you, Sansa. Have a good night.” Gendry gave her a warm smile that Sansa returned. Gendry lowered himself a bit to rub behind Lady’s ears. Lady turned her head into Gendry’s palm, giving him better access. “Goodnight to you too, Lady.”

Gendry scratched at her head for a moment longer before he stepped back and released her. Sansa stepped away from him, her lips curling into a smile as she and Lady made their way over to Arya. Sansa engulfed her sister in a hug before Arya had a chance to say anything. “I like him,” Sansa whispered in her ear. “Keep him.”

“I intend to.” Arya murmured back. “Goodnight, Sans.”

“Goodnight, Ar. Happy birthday.” Sansa kissed the top of her sister’s head and stepped inside. Arya ran her fingers along Lady’s back, patting the dog’s hide as she dutifully followed her owner.

“It was nice to meet you, dude. You’ll have to come back sometime to play with the dogs. They love you!” Rickon was the last of her siblings to leave, smacking Gendry’s shoulder playfully.

Gendry beamed. “I love them, too. I’ll come back any time you want, and we can run them ragged, yeah?”

“Sounds good!” Rickon chirped, whistling for Shaggydog to stop eating grass. The youngest Stark made his way up to Arya, ruffling her hair with a laugh when she shoved him into the house. Shaggydog brushed against her legs as he moved inside, tongue lolling out the side of his head dopily.

“Will you join us for dinner next week, Gendry?” Her father asked, cocking his head to the side. It was just her parents, her, and Gendry outside now, and the area felt significantly quieter and calmer with the disappearance of the rest of the family.

Gendry glanced back at Arya, who shrugged, leaving him to answer for himself. He smiled and turned back to her father. “Yes, of course, sir. I’d be honored.”

Her father grinned. “Excellent.”

“It’s getting late and you two should be going.” Her mother added, eyes glancing up at the black sky. “You two drive safely, now.”

“We will.” Arya stepped down onto the patio to hug her parents. “Thank you,” She whispered to them. “For everything.”

“We love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Happy birthday, sweetling.” Arya pulled back, her body thrumming with butterflies. Gendry was patiently waiting for her at the patio door, giving them privacy. She waved goodbye to her mother and father and kissed Nymeria goodbye, patting her side lovingly before she stepped away, following Gendry out to the front yard.

As soon as they were in the car, she collapsed back against the seat, suddenly drained. Gendry put the car in the drive and glanced over at her, worried. “Are you alright, love?”

“Mhm,” She hummed, closing her eyes and resting her head against the window. “Tonight was just… a lot.”

“Good or bad?”

“Good, very good.” She told him, blindly reaching out for his hand. She threaded their fingers together and rested them on her thigh. Something occurred to her. “You proposed to me.”

“I did.”

“We’re getting married.”

“Yep.”

“I’m gonna be your wife.”

“You sure are.”

“Mrs. Arya Baratheon. Or would it be Waters? Seaworth?” She mused, cracking an eye open to watch him laugh.

He glanced over at her, quirking an eyebrow playfully. “I don’t know—who’s to say I won’t be Gendry Stark?”

She barked out a loud laugh. “Knowing my family, they wouldn’t mind at all. They’ve already adopted you.”

“I’m glad though.” Gendry grew quiet for a moment. “I like them a lot, Arya. I really like them.”

“Good.” Her voice was just as low when she replied. “They’re your family now too. I reckon you’ll be seeing a lot more of them.”

“I hope so.” He smiled over at her and they fell into a comfortable silence in the car. “Did the boys text you?”

“I didn’t even check.” Arya blinked, tugging her phone out of her pocket. She hadn’t looked at it all day, too caught up in the excitement of the party. She had several new messages that she read aloud to Gendry.

**From Dondarrion at 14:57 –**

_Happy birthday, Arry! Give lover boy a punch for me._

Gendry chuckled at the message but squawked when Arya reached over and punched him hard in the bicep. He glared at her but bit his tongue and kept his words to himself. Arya snickered, opening her messages from Hot Pie next.

**From Hot Pie at 12:02 –**

_Happy birthday, Arry! I made you a cake, so please stop by the bakery whenever you get the chance._

**From Hot Pie at 12:05 –**

_Or don’t. That’s fine, too._

**From Hot Pie at 12:07 –**

_Honestly, whatever’s best for you is best for me._

“Aw, bless him.” Gendry said, laughing. “He’s still afraid of you, even after all these years.”

“As he should be. I’m terrifying.”

“Whatever you say, darling.”

**From Brienne at 09:08 –**

_Happy birthday, Arya! Be sure to check your mailbox tomorrow._

“I still can’t believe you know Brienne Tarth.” Gendry muttered, shaking his head.

“I told you, I met her that first night we went to The Wall.”

“I know, but… she’s a famous footie player!” He said, waving his hands around. “And she got you a birthday present!”

Arya laughed. “I know that! I’m the one who told her to go talk to Jaime Lannister about joining the team. She probably sent over some tickets or a jersey or something.”

“Well if they’re tickets, I call dibs.” Gendry chuckled. He paused, thinking for a moment before he glanced at her. “Never saw that one coming, though, I’ll admit—her and Lannister.”

“Neither did she,” Arya hummed in agreement. “She used to rant about him all the time and then one day she realized she was in love with him. Turns out he felt the same. Can’t say I’m too surprised though.”

“Why’s that?”

“She’s awesome.”

“Fair enough.”

**From Clegane at 15:48 –**

_Beric told me to text you. I don’t care that it’s your birthday._

Arya laughed openly at the message from Sandor, which was so very like him, typing her responses back to her friends as Gendry drove them back towards his place.

**To Clegane at 00:46 –**

_If you don’t care, why did you bother texting me, asshole?_

**To Hot Pie at 00:47 –**

_I’ll send Gendry over to pick up the cake tomorrow, Hot Pie. Thank you!_

**To Dondarrion at 00:48 –**

_Gen didn’t appreciate the punch, but I sure did. Thanks for the wishes! Punch Sandor for me when you see him._

**To Brienne at 00:50 –**

_Brienne, I’ve told you a thousand times that you don’t have to get me anything! Nevertheless, thank you for your wishes. Good luck on your match on Tuesday!_

Arya didn’t have to wait long for the responses to come in, her phone buzzing almost immediately.

**From Clegane at 00:52 –**

_Go the fuck to sleep._

**From Hot Pie at 00:53 –**

_Great! I’ll make sure it’s perfect for you. Hope you like it!_

**From Clegane at 00:54 –**

_Why the fuck did Beric just punch me?_

**From Dondarrion at 00:55 –**

_I punched Sandor for you. Don’t think he appreciated it too much._

**From Brienne at 00:56 –**

_Well, it’s too late to take my gift back and it’ll be rude if you don’t accept. Also, Jaime says hello._

**From Dondarrion at 00:56 –**

_Oh gods Arya, he’s after me now_

“They’re loons.” Gendry mused, laughing, when Arya relayed the messages to him. “The whole lot of them. Absolute loons.”

“You love them anyway.” Arya chided, grinning.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Arya went back and forth with the boys and Brienne, texting them goodnight when they neared Gendry’s flat. They pulled into Gendry’s complex a few minutes later and headed into the apartment. They were both exhausted from the stress of the day, so Arya just headed straight for the bedroom to get changed.

Gendry followed her, and they got dressed in silence, brushing past each other on their way to the bathroom. It was only once they were settled in for the night, with Gendry lying on his back and Arya curled into his side, his fingers lightly combing along her spine, that she spoke up. “I don’t know how to feel.”

“What’s going through your mind?”

“I had tonight built up in my head for so long. I told myself over and over and over again that it was going to be a disaster, that you wouldn’t get along with my brothers, or my parents wouldn’t approve, or you’d be overwhelmed. But now, it just feels so anticlimactic.”

“Isn’t that a good thing, though?”

“I suppose so. I feel stupid for letting things get this far. I should’ve brought you to the house years ago.” She was glad that he couldn’t see her face. She didn’t want to see the pity that was no doubt reflected in his eyes.

“I know why you didn’t, Arya.” He reminded her gently. “You were scared. I get that, I really do. Seven hells, I was going out of my mind that first night you met Davos.”

“Really?”

“Of course I was.” He rubbed his thumb along her arm. “You were suddenly the most important person in my life, and up until that point, it had just been me and Davos. Then you came along and my whole world changed. He was begging to meet you from the first time I mentioned you.”

“I never knew that.”

“I never told you.”

“Why?”

“I was embarrassed, mainly.” He chuckled. “I was a little obsessed with you, you know. You were this tiny little spitfire, and I had never met anyone like you. Hardly knew what to do with myself when I was around you.”

Arya was stunned. “I would’ve never known. You never acted weird around me or anything.”

“I’m pretty good at hiding my emotions.” He shrugged, jostling her slightly. “You were self-assured and confident in the ways that I had never been, and I wanted to know you. I had to keep my cool or I would’ve scared you off.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” He stated, tone simple and matter-of-fact. “You were jumpy about emotions back then. If I had shown the first signs of interest, you would’ve gone running for the woods. You know I’m right.”

“Fine, I definitely would’ve run.” Arya conceded. Gendry chuckled, lightly squeezing her arm. She sighed into his chest, nuzzling her head into the soft fabric of his shirt. “I just feel like we’ve wasted so much time, Gen.”

“I know, Arry. I know.” He shushed her. “We have all the time in the world though, love. And besides, I would’ve waited as long as it took to be with you.”

“I love you.”

He squeezed her shoulder again and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you too.”

Silence fell over them once more. They sat in the dark of Gendry’s bedroom, both of them lost in their thoughts. The events of the night replayed in her mind and Arya found herself saying, “I still can’t believe you proposed.” Arya chuckled lightly, glancing down at the ring sitting on her finger.

“Why?” Gendry sounded curious, not offended.

“I don’t know.” She responded honestly. “I think it has more to do with me than it does with you.”

“How do you mean?”

“When I was younger, I never really saw myself as the marrying type. I never had an interest in anyone, boys or girls. Marriage was the last thing on my mind.”

“I always wanted a family.” Gendry told her. “I guess that comes from me having a broken one. I love Davos, but growing up without a mum and dad was hard. Davos did his best, but sometimes a boy just needs his mother.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” The thought of Arya’s mum not being in her life made her chest ache painfully.

“It’s alright. I’ve learned how to cope with it.”

“Well, I know it’s not the same thing, but my mum loves you.”

“She’s lovely.”

“She is.”

“I used to have nightmares, you know,” Arya said, unsure of why she was telling him this. “Of you falling in love with someone else. Scared me out of my mind. It was the reason I was so cagey when we first got together.”

“I can’t even…” Gendry trailed off, lost for words. “I was in love with you well before you made a move on me, Arry. I haven’t even _looked_ at anyone since you.”

“It was my own insecurities,” She explained. “I used to have a complex about my looks. I don’t as much anymore, but sometimes things like that still get to me. Being with you has helped a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I used to compare myself to Sansa all the time when I was little. She was tall, I was short. She was a redhead, I had musty brown hair. She was fair and elegant and I was dirty and aggressive. Everyone wanted her and no one ever bothered looking at me, not that I wanted them to.”

Gendry paused for a long time before he said. “Well, for what it’s worth, Sansa’s not my type at all.”

Arya barked out a laugh. “Oh? And what is your type?”

“Annoying little shits.”

“Asshole!”

They both burst into laughter. Gendry rubbed her back as they both settled, grins still on their faces. “I suppose we’ll have to move now, won’t we?” Gendry mused. “Not that I’m opposed, of course.”

“It’ll be weird not coming here anymore.” Arya agreed. “I love this apartment.”

“Me too.” Gendry ran his fingers along her arm. “Should we get a house? Or another apartment?”

“I’m not sure we need a house yet.” Arya shook her head. “Too much space. We wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

“Wherever we go, it’ll have to be pet friendly, so we can have Nymeria.”

Arya’s heart swelled, and she couldn’t quite hide her smile. “You sure you’re ready to have a dog?”

“No, but I’m marrying you, and you two come as a packaged deal, so I haven’t really got much say in the matter.”

“You’re damn right.” They both chuckled and fell quiet again. Arya’s mind was still racing, a question sitting at the tip of her tongue. After a few moments debate, she finally bit the bullet and hesitantly asked, “Gen?”

“Yeah, love?”

“Do you think we’re too young?”

Gendry was quiet for a long moment. While he pondered over his answer, Arya nibbled on her bottom lip, suddenly nervous. After a beat, Gendry slowly spoke. “Maybe. I don’t really know, to be honest. All I know is that you’re beautiful and I love you and none of it will be worth anything if you’re not with me.”

“You’re sweet.” Arya titled her head and pressed her lips right over his heart.

“Do _you_ think we’re too young?” He asked. “We can always wait, Arry. As long as you want, I swear.”

Arya thought for a long moment before shaking her head. “No. I want to get married. I love you. We _are_ young, but I don’t care.”

“Alright then.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I suppose that settles it.”

“I’m just… nervous.”

“Everything will be alright, Arya.” Gendry reassured her sweetly. “We’ll find a place to live, we’ll make sure Nymeria is happy, and you’ll graduate and get your degree, we’ll get married, and we’ll start the rest of our lives together.”

“I think Sansa should be my maid of honor.”

“I’m sure she’d love that.”

“I don’t think Sandor would wear a dress anyway, so.”

Gendry snorted. “He’d look dashing, I reckon. Something bright and pastel to bring out his scowl.”

Arya giggled. “Maybe a lavender? Or a pale blue, to match your eyes?”

“Perfect. He’d hate it.”

They laughed together. Arya rested her hand over his heart and shifted to look up at him. “Who’s going to be your best man?”

“I think I’m gonna ask Davos. He bawled his eyes out when I told him I was going to propose.”

Arya chuckled. “That old sap.”

“He’s happy for us.”

“I know he is. I love him for it.” She kissed Gendry’s neck. “I think he’ll be honored to be your best man, love.”

“Jon, Robb, and Theon might kill me for not picking them, but this actually saves me having to choose one of them. Seven knows the three of them are competitive enough as it is.”

Arya paused, then grinned wolfishly. “But if you _had_ to pick one of them, you’d pick…?”

“Seven hells, Arry, don’t ask me!” Gendry groaned. 

“Robb would be the worst best man, without a question.” Arya snorted, laughing. “He’d get drunk at the bachelor’s party and turn up hungover at the wedding.”

“Oh gods, I can picture it now.” Gendry laughed with her. “Jon would be quite broody, wouldn’t he? He’d just scowl at me the whole reception. I suppose Theon would throw a good party…”

“But he’d try to sleep with any woman he saw.”

“Exactly.”

“They’re a mess, my brothers.”

“You love them though.”

Arya sighed. “Yes, unfortunately I do. Even when I want to kill them, I love them.”

“That’s family for you.”

“I know.”

“Arya?” She glanced up and met his gaze. “I love you, more than anything, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I don’t know why you agreed to marry me, but I promise you that I will spend every second of every day for the rest of my life making sure you know how much I love you.”

His words hit her hard and she was quiet for a moment while she composed herself. “I agreed to marry you because you’re my best friend and I love you, Gendry. I don’t want to spend my life with anyone but you. I used to have dreams about what my life would be like in ten years, and you were by my side in every single one of them.

“I honestly can’t even imagine what my life would be like without you. I don’t want to. You’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know, and I can’t even begin to thank you for that. You’ve taught me how to love and be kind, not only to others, but also to myself. And you’ve loved me unconditionally and without regard, even when I didn’t deserve it.

“I spent a majority of my life believing that I would never find someone who wanted to be with me. In fact, I had resigned myself to a life of being a dog-mom and being the cool Aunt that everyone loved. But then I met you, and suddenly, having a family of my own was a possibility.

“Admittedly, at first, we were just friends, and that was exactly what we needed. I’m glad we waited as long as we did to get together, because if we’d been any younger, I think it would’ve been too soon. But I already loved you when we first kissed, and I’ve loved you for every moment since then.

“You are undoubtedly my soulmate, Gendry. My best friend, my partner in crime, my companion through everything. I’ve never been someone who _wanted_ kids—I was never opposed to having them, but it was never a necessity—but I think that someday, I’d like to have kids with you.

“Recently I’ve been having dreams, dreams that include the two of us together in a big house, with a couple of children and a few dogs, and I don’t remember much from those dreams, but I remember feeling so happy and content that when I woke up, it was disorienting. I want that life for us.

“I don’t know what the future holds for us—I don’t know where I’m going to end up with my job, or where we’ll be living, or anything like that—but I know that as long as I have you by my side, we’ll get through anything. I know I don’t say it enough, Gendry, and I’m sorry for that, but I love you. I truly, honestly do.”

“You say it more than enough.” He whispered back. “Even when you don’t say it, you say it. You say it with your eyes when I bring home your favorite dinner. You say it with your smile when I surprise you with little gifts. You say it with your laugh when I tell you a funny story. You say it, Arya. I swear it, by the old gods and the new.”

“Good,” She didn’t want to admit that she was choked up, but her throat seemed to constrict on her words. “I’m glad you know.”

“I do, sweetheart. I do.” Gendry shifted onto his side, curling his arm tighter around her. Instead of resting her face on his chest, she pressed her nose into his neck and inhaled deeply, soothed by his familiar scent of pine wood and motor oil. “Gods, it’s been quite the emotional day, hasn’t it?”

Arya barked out a wet laugh. “Yes, it has.”

“You should try and get some rest, my love.”

“Okay.” She murmured, her lips brushing his skin.

“Goodnight, Arya. I love you.” Gendry leaned back to kiss her forehead, lifting his head to tuck her under his chin when he pulled away.

“I love you too, Gen.” She closed her eyes and willed herself to relax in his embrace. Her mind raced, replaying the events of the night behind her eyelids with a vigor. Eventually, after a long while, her mind quieted and she was lulled to sleep by the steady thrumming of Gendry’s heart under her ear.

Arya Stark was twenty-one the first time she finally felt whole.

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit ya'll, I was about 90000000% sure I was never gonna finish this beast. 
> 
> I worked on this monstrosity for almost two months and I hope to the Seven that it was worth it!
> 
> Seriously, you guys are the absolute best and I got so much lovely and wonderful feedback on part 1 and it inspired me to write this.
> 
> If you liked it, please leave me a comment down below and tell me your favorite part! I love responding to comments!
> 
> I love you guys so much! If you ever wanna chat, you can find me at @allie_kitaguchi on twitter and alliekitaguchi.tumblr.com/ask on tumblr!
> 
> I hope to hear from you all soon! Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> The Stark family/Gendry’s POV’s can be found in part 1 of this series! 
> 
> \- A


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